


More than my Programming

by Skylarium_Rose



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alien Invasion, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Blood and Gore, Body Dysphoria, Cultural Differences, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Gen, Injury, M/M, Negotiations, Politics, Redemption, Size Difference, Slow Burn, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Strength Kink, Transformers Lore & Culture, Transformers Spark Bonds, Voice Kink, War, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2020-10-29 23:31:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 121,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20804795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylarium_Rose/pseuds/Skylarium_Rose
Summary: The Autobot Commonwealth. The Decepticon Empire.Two sides of a very battered coin. What would it take for these two sides to even contemplate peace?A chanced happening that has Cybertron's existence in the balance.Now its up to a too idealistic, too determined Academy washout that has more than a few tricks – and secrets – under his plating to call a truce with the Decepticon warlord to help save their planet. Who also happens to have an ego the size of Moon Base 1 and a fifty stellar cycle grudge against him.





	1. (“Perseverance”);

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who just got done rewatching TFA for no reason? This girl did ᕦ( *≧∀≦*)ᕤ!!!
> 
> It’s been about 4 yrs since I watched it again and with the three part unaired season 4 episodes transcripts being released this year I thought why not. But while doing that I also started rereading some of my favorite TFA fics and going through the almanac too and thus this idea was birthed.

Gritting his dentae as the makeshift spear digs into his right shoulder joint, pinning him to the ground, and Megatron can tell his arm is inoperable before the warnings flash across his optics. 

Kicking out and firing his thrusters he is rewarded with a high and throaty screech that fills the abandoned fortress tower. With that distraction Megatron takes in the state of his arm and with a grimace braces himself and pulls.

The scraping of ripping metal, the snapping of cables, and the wet sounds of pumps tearing echo in the high-vaulted room as Megatron yanks himself free of his badly damaged arm. Shutting down the warnings and tactile sensors he staggers to his pedes with the help of his other sword for balance. Scanning the rubble filled room for his cannon – which he lost in the grapple that sent them careening into the building in the first place – he barely finds it's specific fusion signature before his audials tune his attention to his left.

Standing only because of her hold on the door frame his opponent drags her half burned body into the room and Megatron growls at her insolence.

She was littered with bruises and cuts that sluggishly bleed her kind's deep green blood and the wings he had successful ripped from her back were growing again in a splintered manner with the same light fabric connecting them. The leg he had burned off had grown back the most with what he was told was muscle wrapping around her bottom pede.

Megatron looks upon the disfigurement he wrought on the Commander and smirks even though he knew he was in a similar state.

Dents that made it almost impossible for him to rotate any of his joints, deep claws marks into his battle harden armor that bleed energon, her shapeshifting weapon lodged in his right shin, and his right arm bore the signs of his cannon being forcefully removed.

But he was not defeated!

With one well timed attack he could make it over to his cannon and with a simple touch to recognize his energy signature he could fire it and end this battle. Pushing his numbed pede back to drop himself into a balanced and defensive stance he waits for the Commander to make her move in her arrogance.

As her eyes widen in fury at his defiance her growls overlap as she crouches like the repulsive creature she is.

"You stupid robot! How dare you defy me!" She shouts and lunges with her metal piercing claws again.

Diving forward, Megatron strikes at her regrowing knee joint only for the muscle to create another servo and reach out to pushes the sword down with incredible power. The force knocks it from his grasp and another force lands on his backstruts smashing him into the ground. The metal floor whines beneath his considerable bulk, but he pays no mind to it as he looks up for his sword and sees it a mere 2 mechanometer away —

"HHAARRGHH!"

Burning raw agony jolts up his back before extending to his whole body and Megatron feels it more than hears his backstrut being ripped from his body. As his optics are flooded with warnings and errors he can just see pass them to watch his only remaining arm spasm out of control before falling limp in front of him.

With a victorious cry from above Megatron is roughly flipped over and can't help the grunt of anguish as his open back and mechanics are placed under his weight and his systems refuse to let him shut down his tactile sensors anymore. The pain loops in a vicious cycle and is compounded every nanoklik, even more so when the Commander rips her weapon from his leg. It showers her with sparks, but she barely flinches as Megatron bites his glossa so not to grunt in discomfort as the pool of energon grows beneath him, adding to his pain.

Looking up to his opponent in disgust as she continues to heal he cannot complain that she did not give him a glorious battle. But now that it was at an end and he was not the victor he curses his code for deeming her as a capable threat now.

Holding her weapon aloft he watches as it shifts into a halberd – an inferior copy of a true axe, a much more versatile weapon – and looks down at him with an unpleasant grin, showing off her broken and olive stained Sharkticon-like dentas.

Megatron glares at her in rage, trying hard not to show her the true suffering he was in. But his body shook from the damage it took and from the ire of being bested. 

He always knew if he was to offline before the Well took him it would be in battle. And earlier in his function Megatron would have seen it as a means to an end for his Cause and would not have completely minded it as his death would rallied his followers behind Strika and Shockwave, who could handle the Decepticon Army and their continuing conquests. But now he quite minded his imminent death and was livid that he was at his end. He was on the cusp of getting everything he fought and believed for and so much more and it was all going to be stopped by an organic Cybertronian pretender!

"So long Megatron. You’ve been an annoyance much too long." She hisses happily.

_What a cruel fate to such a cruel figure. It is it’s own flawed justice._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is scheduled for Nov. 1st (because of this teaser chapter ;) but after that I'm not sure what the update schedule will be. 
> 
> So if you can just be patient with me I know I can promise one a month at least (⺣◡⺣)


	2. (“TransWarped”);

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not that the concept of time itself isn't funky enough, but its a whole different ball game in space and on other planets too. So a head's up that time will be a bit odd in the narrative, but not unreasonably hard to get.

**17 Orbital Cycles Earlier**

“Clearly this Allspark fragment is not powerful enough. Fortunately I happen to have another." Turning to his former second-in-command.

As Megatron walks closer to his prize he can feel the helmache he had ever since this idiotic seeker showed up finally start to dissipate.

"What? Me?” Starscream whimpers as usual, only to live up to his name as he screams when Megatron tosses him to the Constructicons.

** _WSSSP!_ **

A blue fragile line snatches the head out of the air at its highest arc and drags it away from its intended destination. Following the line with a sneer Megatron sees Starscream’s head land neatly in the Autobot leader’s out held servos.

“You really should look out for any type interception play,” He says confidently.

Growling, Megatron flexes his servos, “Give me that Autobot!”

Everything in the cave grinds to a standstill with the only noise coming from the battle outside. In the stillness he takes one step forward only for this obnoxious Autobot to not only not back down, but to take a few steps forward as well to stand at the top of the stairs.

_The indignation!_

“You want it. Come and get it,” He proclaims as he shakes the head only to smirk deviously as he taunts, “If you can."

Megatron lets the siren song of battle rage take him as he lunges forward and the Autobot leader wastes no time and shoots out another line to the walkway above in a foolish attempt to escape. In retaliation Megatron fires his thrusters at full to quickly meet him at this new height. Yet he is without the head!

“Lose something?” The Autobot asks cheekily.

Then transforming he drives away and Megatron turns his attention away from the main annoyance, listening for that signature scream he had learned to tune out. Finding it he sees the traitor’s head flying to that motormouth Autobot who speeds away on his wheels. Flying over and landing in front of the exit Megatron finds this Autobot without the head either! With a roar he swipes at the smallest of the group, but his wheels lend him aid and he ducks out of his way as well.

The sound of a jet pack draws his optics up again and Megatron sees the cyber-ninja flying off with the head. So close he jumps to grabs for the ninja's pede only for his servo to go right through it and the anger of being fooled – by a hologram! – fuels a new sense of rage and a new helmache at being played by these worthless Autobots.

"Megatron! Megatron! _Listen to me!_ He's going to throw me at the green one!" Starscream screeches and he barely has time to process the words before Starscream's statement is proven true.

The fact that it happened stalls Megatron's processor momentarily because Starscream rarely tells the truth - except he was now - and it was so he could be helped. Not dwelling on it long, lest he force himself into a crash and reboot, Megatron continues to chase the head and the fast moving Autobots with no assistance.

"Yo! Boss! It’s over here now!” The wider Construction yells from across the cave, irking Megatron more.

_Do I need to specify everything?!_

"Well don’t just stand there. Retrieve it!”

This idiotic sparkling game goes on for another three cycles with Starscream calling out the moves that Megatron can scarcely follow with his growing shrillness. And this could have all been ended if the lanky Construction had keep the head when he caught it, not tossed it back to another Autobot as if he was part of the game!

Now with those two arguing it left Megatron with zero competent followers, but finally has his chance when the Autobot leader is close enough to catch. Grabbing the top of Starscream's head the Autobot gets lucky with grabbing hold of the base of his neck. He pulls the head towards him, and unaware that the Autobot would try such a foolish endeavor, Megatron is surprised when he is pulled forward a few mechanometers. 

And he didn't like surprises.

Tightening his hold on Starscream and glaring back at the Autobot, Megatron begins to spin around, lifting the determined Autobot with him. After four rotations he violently snap out his arm and the Autobot goes flying, crashing into his teammates that were coming to his rescue.

"A truly absurd venture. Thinking you could stop me," Megatron smirks as he looks at the downed Autobots, "You have jammed up my gears for the last time Autobot. You will be the first to feel my wrath."

Turning his cannon on him, the fool of a leader stands in front of his team with his arms outstretch like he could possibly block the blast with only that.

_No matter, they'll all be dead soon._

"AUTOBOTS IN DANGER."

It is Megatron's only warning of the Autobot's monstrosity, their repressive nature in functioning form. The blast knocks him back and into his communication center and the rock wall behind it. Falling out of the dent he made Megatron looks up at the giant and can't see any other of his warriors fighting him. A simple comm. to Blitzwing confirms his forces have been decimates and he was alone. As the Supreme turns to him he knows he cannot fight him now. He needs to warn his army of this setback. Reaching under what's left of the structure he gently pulls the tachyon transmitter free, and in standing up he locks optics with the defiant Autobot leader's steely glower and returns it in kind. 

"Another solar cycle Autobot," He snarls before shooting at an overhang above them to distract them all.

Subspacing the transmitter and Starscream's squawking head Megatron runs out of the mine and takes to the sky just as the Supreme turns to him.

"DECEPTICON."

Firing a blast to his turned knee joint the giant falls forward and into the rest of the cave, the rock collapsing under him, and hopefully onto the Autobots he was so _dutifully_ programmed to protect.

"Decepticons! Retreat!" He calls out and his force of five rises up and follows him over the mountains and away from the failed base.

Several cycles later they arrive at their second base, an island in the nearby lake, and when they land at the entrance Blackarachnia is there to greet them with one of her sharpdenta smiles.

"Heard the commotion so I had the Dinobots clear out some space. No thanks needed," She says in her lackadaisical way.

"Lord Megatron need not thank anyone! For it should be your function to —"

"Enough Lugnut," Megatron cuts off another tirade from the front liner, "Blackarachnia, show Blitzwing where he can reinstall the tachyon transmitter then assess the wounds of my warriors. Fix them and then you are free to go back to whatever you were working on."

Her dermas twist back into her permanent scowl, but she doesn't hesitate to answer, "Yes my liege."

Taking the transmitter from his subspace he passes it off to Blitzwing, but holds his servo out to stop Lugnut. Once every other bot is in the base he turns to his most loyal follower.

"I have a task for you," And pulls Starscream’s head from his subspace.

“Finally! Really Megatron, could you have – Hey! Wait! What are you doing?!”

Wasting no time he digs the Allspark fragment out of Starscream's processor before the seeker could even start screaming in earnest.

Holding his hard fought prize he watches in satisfaction as it’s removal leaves a grey shell of frozen horror looking up at him. Subspacing the fragment Megatron tosses the finally silent head to Lugnut.

"Depose of this." 

"Of course Master. I will do so with great pleasure!"

"I know you will," And though today was a misstep the end of one of his enemies still rang something pleasurable in his spark. Even more so when he feels the shockwaves of POKE reverberating through the base.

Coming to the main room he finds the transmitter faintly glowing, indicating its operational status. Typing in his hailing code to Shockwave the spy thankfully answers in a prompt manner, but his twitching antlers tell a different story.

"Lord Megatron. It is good to see you well." Shockwave intones.

"Yes. We have not lost this war, it is only a minor setback. Shockwave, your cover will be blown within the next solar cycle. It is imperative that you leave Cybertron before you are captured." 

"My thoughts exactly my liege. I have my contingency prepare as well. In four megacycles the back channel into all of the Autobot's Intelligence servers will be at my digits."

"Excellent," Grinning at the good news, "Fall back to Opulus. The Strike Squadron are doing reconnaissance from the third moon there."

His spy hesitates at first – Megatron knows the reason why but cares very little – before he bows, "Thank you my lord. I shall finish my act of disappearing here and will leave within the solar cycle." And with that Shockwave changes back into his persona and ends the transmission.

Now if only telling some of his other forces to hold their position after they capture their assigned space bridges was that easy.

"Maybe she just needs some time to cool off. We'll keep her safe.” Optimus tells Professor Sumdac softly as the lift lowers him and Sari back to the sub-basement.

Seeing the forlorn look on the older man’s face was spark-breaking, but he understood how Sari felt to an extent. He knew about the urge of wanting to get away from it all, much better than most. Even before driving out of the Tower Optimus can see that Sari didn't want to talk. As soon as she had her seatbelt on she pulled her legs to her chest and laid her head against her knees. Not wanting to bother her he decides to check-in on the assignments he gave his team. 

He had left Bulkhead and Bumblebee at the destroyed mine to see if they could savage anything important so the Decepticons couldn't reclaim it. Bulkhead said they had the most important equipment and that they were going to haul it back to the base.

Prowl had been sent to make sure that the base was secure. But after he gave him a brief description of what Professor Sumdac told him and Sari about her origins Prowl promptly repeated what he told him before disconnecting the comm. and sending him a message that he was unavailable until further notice.

Meanwhile, Ratchet got Omega Supreme to the closest island to Detroit so he could recuperate from his battle with the Decepticons. As soon as Omega was rested and operational Ratchet was to tell Optimus so they could call Ultra Magnus about their new discovery. Now he was going there because he needed Sari to be examined.

"That's fine," Ratchet says when Optimus tells him about his expected arrival, "With a little extra kick from the Key everything should be fine and we can contact Cybertron." 

"Good. Then you can scan Sari with better equipment too." Optimus replies.

"Did something happened?"

"In a way... something did." 

Not wanting to give away Sari's privacy Optimus tries for vagueness, but he should have remembered that when it came to the young girl she didn't shy away from things that bothered her.

"If you call transforming hands that shoot pulse beams 'something'," She scoffs doing the fingers quotes too to point out how very annoyed she was and immediately Ratchet is asking her questions about the incident. 

Trying to be respectful Optimus lowers his audial volume so Sari and Ratchet could talk and heightens his external sensors for any other dangers on the roads. Earth roads were surprisingly risky to navigate even with all their rules and precaution signs.

The drive was a lazy affair and they were almost to the docks when he feels the first twinges of something uncomfortable around his spark. Like somehow something was raking their servo over it, but that sensation quickly turns into a sharp itching pain and he knows that feeling well. It was fear. But before he can reach out to ask what was wrong a burning crawling sensation overtakes ever joint and squirms through every pump leaving him in terrible agony. 

"AAAHHH!"

With a strangled gasp Optimus jerkily swerves out of the honking traffic and into the emergency stopping lane. The brief flash of pain was over, but the ripples of dread from the intensity of the pain has Optimus pushing at the Amica Endura bond only for it to be forcefully shut down. It had never been like that except for when his Amica really injured himself! He pressed at the bond a couple more times without any response only for him to be shaken back into the present as he feels Sari's overly warm hands land on his dashboard. Turning his audials back up he can hear both Ratchet and Sari frantically asking him questions about what happened. He tries to settle them, but Ratchet is ridged in his conviction that he was right and that he was injured from the fight, demanding he gets to Omega faster so he can look him over. Pulling back onto the road with a quiet 'Yes Ratchet' Optimus tries not to think or panic about the suddenness of the bond going dark.

"Optimus? Are you really going to be okay?" Sari asks quietly, looking to his steering wheel with concern.

"Yeah... Yeah I'm going to be fine Sari."

Wishing he was in root mode so he could give her a convincing smile Optimus can only hope she doesn't hear the waver in his voice as he lies about his state of processor.

_Please. Please be safe._

* * *

Despite his protests, Ratchet starts scanning him the moment he and Sari enter the medbay and even after he lays down on the medical berth. But when Ratchet grumbles about the fact that he i]was without any injuries Optimus feels a slight swell of victory at being right. That is until he sees the grim expression Ratchet is giving him when he turns away from his vitals.

Knowing it was one thing, but being able to see the reason was almost as bad as the pain he experienced earlier. The spark monitor only showed the one wavelength instead of a smaller second one parallel to it. It had been two for so long that it looked wrong to be alone. Ratchet tells him he could still detect a murmur so not all hope was lost, but the best thing he could do was to try and rest. 

But even exhausted his processor was too focused onother problems to truly recharge. One very short and fitful recharge later did nothing to soothe the impending helmache. Hoping that fixing the problems they were experiencing would soothe his processor he talks Ratchet into allowing him out of his room and to contact Ultra Magnus. But it didn't get any better. After a half a megacycle of waiting, because of a severe breach in security, Optimus found out that they and all the Autobots had been conned in a serious way. Unable to recharge now because of the throbbing helmache he goes out to talk to Sari and Ratchet about her new development.

"What?" He asks faintly as he resets his audials at the news, the helmache becoming secondary.

"I know Prime," Ratchet shakes his helm in confusion, "It doesn't make any sense, but Sari is part Cybertronian. A true techno-organic." 

"Probably some of his best work too. I could never tell." Sari fumes as she crosses her arms.

Frowning at her acidic words Optimus tries to appeal to her compassionate side, "You could at least try to talk with your father." He suggests, but the frown she throws at him tells him it wasn't welcomed.

"He's not my father... he's ... my assembler!" She shouts back.

And the anger on her face almost makes him wary of saying anything, but he knows that this is mostly bravo and she needs to hear it.

"Sari, I don't pretend to fully understand humans, but their bonds, from what I've seen ...I can say that I do know something about that and it has a lot more to do with the spark than who created you... much more."

And his coding does the rest. Pulling memories that related the closest to the emotions that are being acted on, recalling scenes of high walls and over decorative glass, datapads upon datapads with artifacts littered about the high reaching shelves, chasing flame colors around corners, listening to stories from the grumpiest but kindest bot Optimus knew, and being lovingly tucked into berth each night cycle. 

Closing his optics against those wonderful memories he opens them to see Sari looking up at him with a curious look and he realizes he got carried away in his own memories.

"With the heart." He say gently.

"Oh man," Sari sighs before knocking on her chest, "What he didn't give me a heart?"

Realizing this was going to take more than him being on the professor's side Optimus formulates a plan that will not only help out his friend, but will get rid of his helmache and persistent concern about something about to go horribly wrong. Sending out Ratchet to meet-up with Bulkhead and Bumblebee, who should have been here an Earth hour ago, to help them haul anything back while he sets up a lunch outing with an unsuspecting daughter and father. And he knew it was foolproof, it always worked in the movies Sari showed them.

* * *

"Sari; one. Tiny death-sized rock monsters; zerooo!" She cheers.

"You got admit, she's good." Bumblebee says in awe.

_Another problem down and so many more to go._

Optimus sighs deeply at everything that happened today; from Decepticons and their ploys to Masterson hurting Bulkhead and then him fighting Masterson – again! – to Bumblebee getting eaten by a rock creature and now a supercharged Sari. With so much happening he's surprised they're all still standing. 

"The Key!" Ratchet gasps and turning to Sari he can see that the gasp was warranted.

As electricity sparks around the Key Sari's wrist blades activate again only for her left arm to wave and jerk around like a Decepticon without stabilizers. 

"What's happening to me?!" She yells as she spins around and shoots a blast at a nearby building.

He can hear the others talk, but can't truly focus on that as his battle protocols try to tract and decipher Sari's movements, but her actions are just too random to create a workable pattern.

As she spins down the street he turns to Ratchet, "What's her malfunction?" 

"The Key's power must've caused an overload. She can't control the upgrades." He explains before trying to stop her with his electromagnets by holding her new metal feet to the road.

But with unlimited Allspark power being feed directly into her circuitry she swipes out and dislodges the forcefield around her and knocks back Ratchet in one go.

Optimus' own attempt to hold her doesn't go any better and gritting his denta he starts to look around for other ways to hold Sari still as Prowl tries his Processor over Matter so they can grab the key. But this being the third – or was it the fourth – fight he's been in, in so many megacycles made it hard to focus. And as a powerfully charged forcefield starts to emanate from Sari and rapidly makes its way towards them, all Optimus could think was,

_I hope this doesn't get any worse._

Tapping his digits impatiently on his leg, Shockwave forces himself to not roll his optics at these theatrics or to let his whining fans, set on low, expose him to his distressed state. This surprise meeting had almost exposed him to Cliffjumper, who suddenly came in to inform him of Ultra Magnus' return and his immediate call to the Council Chambers for a secret meeting. Somehow Autobots always had an affinity for showing up at the worst times and being their most obnoxious selves.

... Well most of them.

_No. There is no time for sentiments during war._

Turning away form those less than logical thoughts he tunes into Ultra Magnus' rant about Decepticon prowess – which he already knew – but what he mentions next has Shockwave more concern.

"— uprisings were far too coordinated to be random acts of sabotage. All signs point to an inside source. A Decepticon double agent here, on Cybertron."

"Clearly its the escaped convict Wasp," He speaks up, trying to sound more collected than his internal thermometer was telling him, "Surely its no coincidence that all this Decepticon activity began after his escape."

"I agree." Ultra Magnus nods in his direction, but before he can continue he is interrupted by a faux and truly pompous cough.

Looking across from him Shockwave grips the desk in front of him. If Alpha Trion had something to say, who knows what would happen next. The old bot was always a peculiar factor. Shockwave could never get a handle or a scandal on him and not having information on such a high ranking individual was unsettling for the spy.

"That is a fine assumption, but how did he get this information? He was in the Stockades. No information on anything, even the state of the planet, should get in to that prison." The Domesticus Councilor asks, his distaste for the Stockades made clear once again in his tone.

And any other solar cycle Shockwave would have been annoyed with his assertion being questioned, but now it was like his perfect escape was served up for him like a cup of nickle-alloy tea. Moving to make his faceplates resemble sympathy, concern, and disappointment Shockwave seals his fate.

"This is true Councilor Alpha Trion. And I fear to say this, with these recent coordinated attacks, but I don't think it was the work of one bot. I think Wasp was helped," He says with a solemn tip of his head, hiding the brief grin on his dermas.

"Another spy?"

Turning to look at Ultra Magnus, "Possibly. It would explain his escape. I did not want to raise distress and paranoia where there might not be any. But I have my best agents scanning for any slip-ups in communication on and off the planet. And if I may, I also suggest going after Wasp as well. If we can find him then hopefully we can obtain the communicator he’s using to talk to his covert contact."

Watching his targets, everyone looks convinced, except for Alpha Trion, who is staring at him with an indiscernible gaze. But whatever caused it was quickly dismissed as he sits up straighter and addresses Ultra Magnus.

"It may be our best attempt Magnus. The Decepticon forces have stopped for now and we don’t know when we will get another opportunity."

"I concur. Thank you for this information Longarm Prime. Sentinel Prime. Jazz. I want you to put together an Elite Guard unit to track down Wasp right away."

With the affirmatives Shockwave let himself marginally relax as the hardest part of this farce was over and soon he would be out of this falsity of governmental rule.

"Also try to contact Optimus Prime's team on Earth. Its been decacycles since we've heard from them."

Against common sense and all logic Shockwave surges to his pedes shouting, "All communication with Optimus Prime's crew should be filtered through me first. No exceptions!"

His exclaim was met with silent and judging stares, one particularly distasteful one from Alpha Trion, and Shockwave hears his fans click on to there normal setting in embarrassment. Such an expressive answer was unusually for him, in either forms, but living amidst the Autobots had taken its toll on his personality in the worst way. Clearing his throat he tries to sound calmer than his outburst had led them to believe.

"For security sake of course. And for the sake of all Cybertron." He adds with a weak set of chuckles, hoping his research would pay off.

And when he sees the nods and shrugs Shockwave congratulates himself in indulging in one activity that helped him learn more about Autobot mannerisms and behaviors. With the meeting dismissed Shockwave walks as quickly as he could back to his office thinking about the precarious line he walked now. It was only pure luck that Optimus Prime hadn't called after his team's recent victory on Earth. But for whatever the reason stopping them Shockwave was grateful. Getting back to the office he sends Cliffjumper down three levels to oversee some interns and watches the Steelhaven launch from his own office. With that out of the way he had plenty of time to set up his murder. 

Pulling back the floor boards Shockwave pulls out a very convincing grey shell of his Longarm persona with a sniper shot through the processor. Sitting him in his chair he lines it up with the glass before shooting out the window at the right angle for it to look like it came from three buildings over. Shooting through his console station as well Shockwave drapes the shell over the desk and arranges him just so. Looking back on it, it truly did look like a grisly sight and he smiles – if he really could – to himself at his servo-work.

Picking up a few hard files on datapads that were not yet added to the database he subspaces them and types out a code that allowed the window to his left to open half way for 30 nanokliks for him to extend his pedes down the length of Metroplex and easily descend the height. With his identity dead and the paranoia of a second spy spread it was only a matter of time before the higher command started pointing digits at each other. A clean escape and a successful mission for Lord Megatron.

One that was much easier now that there was no one to truly mourn him.

Squeezing himself down through a hatch into the old tunnels beneath all of Cybertron Shockwave makes haste to the outskirts of Iacon and to his old secret Autobot escape vehicle, the same one that got him on the planet in the first place. With repairs and upgrades ever stellar cycle it flew better than when they purchased it from Swindle, and with his knowledge of Cybertron's scanning grid system he knew about the small breech in the system that happened once every three megacycles. With his calculations checked he takes off and easily flies off planet and away from the Autobots. 

* * *

After three solar cycles of blissful solitude Shockwave prepares himself for the loud, brash, and unconventional behavior of the crew of _The Rouge_.

Slingshotting pass Opulus he lands on the rocky moon of Edule and merely gets mechanometers away from his vessel before he can hear the rotary blades of a rotorcraft and then picks up the energy signature of one of the Strike Squardon. And in perfect style for these Cons he is barely given a chance to dodge before a missile is sailing past him and into his ship. The blast knocks him off his pedes and onto his aggressors as the bot chuckles above him, but still reaches out a servo to help him up.

"Really? Y' gotta to do better than that." 

"Hello again Sandstorm," He huffs, dusting off the fragments of his ship and the surface from his plating and seams, "And despite your haste to get rid of any evidence did you think about the consequences of if I hadn't been clear of that shot _or_ if I hadn't collect all my materials?"

With a scoff and a too hard punch to the shoulder pauldron Sandstorm waves it off with his signature too wide grin, "I might have a few screws lose, but I know enough to know you don't so I just gotta worry about myself. You've taken care of the rest cause you're so meticulous and stuff." He laughs with his hardy draw.

"And stuff?" Shockwave finds himself questioning the chemical specialist.

"I would've said 'slag', but you'd get all bristly – like y' just did."

Sighing he rolls his single optic before changing into his tank mode as Sandstorm does into his tanker hauler and leads the way back to _The Rouge_, weaving happily in front of him the whole time for no reason at all.

_Oh for spark sake. Why did it have to be Triple Changers?_

Coming up to the cloaked ship Shockwave is relieved to see Checkpoint, one of two Triple Changers that had all their processing faculties in working order. 

"Greetings Checkpoint. Where is your commander?"

The shapely blue and silver femme smiles innocently as she leads him to the command hub, "Our very diligent leader is doing datawork about the strategic change in this system with our attacks. And well ... thinking over another problem we're sure you can fix now that you're here."

"We will see. Show me what information you have on this problem."

The problem was an outside scout ship that would appear twice every orbital cycle and always on the sixth solar cycle of the week. With a description of the vessel and a partial image from one of Octane’s better recon missions Shockwave was able to narrow it down to three organic alien species.

"Oh! Its that one!" Octane bellows as he reaches over him and knock one of his antlers as he points at the images of the Qidried he had pulled up.

Rubbing at his horn he looks at the blue colored horned alien looking back at him with their four glassy pink eyes. 

"That's not possible."

"Are you saying I lied!" Comes a tinny whine, so unlike the deep sound from before.

Shockwave doesn't even attempt to not roll his optic in exasperation at the purple and grey Triple Changer, rather wishing he was dealing with Blitzwing's hothelm face than Octane's blubbering insecure responses, "B-But I wouldn't do that. It could ruin e-e-e-everything!" 

And Checkpoint, right now his only saving grace, steps over to reassure Octane that wasn't the case.

"Hey, I mean we're all Cons," Sandstorm chuckles as he leans against him, "It comes with the territory Octo."

"You know that not what it means," Shockwave mutters before pushing the orange and grey bot off him so he could fully turn to the Squadron, "And I'm not saying you are lying Octane, I am stating that the last they were seen – at all – was at the edge of the Vestial Imperium. I have heard rumors through the Extranet that they were gaining traction, but as they are organic and not within the Autobots' radar they were deemed inconsequential. And even with my high position I was not allow to investigate the rumors of a growing organic superpower. With that being said, I was merely expressing surprise earlier."

"Expressing huh," And turning to Checkpoint he is met with a shrewd look, "Not a word you use too often." She says softly as her teammates nods in agreement.

Guilt begins to snap through his processor at letting such a mellow word slip out of his vox and he tries to amend it, "Yes, well being amongst those that valued it made it so I had to adjust quickly, lest I be found out."

It seems to settle the other two, but she still gives him a side-optic glance that told him she didn't believe him. But turning back to the screen she changes the subject back to the Qidried sightings.

"So what are we suppose to do now?"

"The first order of business is to contact Lord Megatron so he knows he has complete access to all of the Autobot's intelligence and communication as it becomes available to them. Secondly, I suggest we do our own research to see how far reaching and how dangerous these organics might have become."

**OOOGAH-OOOGAH! OOOGAH-OOOGAH!**

Jumping down to the second level of the command hub Sandstorm turns off the proximity klaxons and pulls up the screens to show what triggered the alarms. One by one massive ships jump out of hyperspace until a collection of eight aquamarine warships roam over the Edulean sky and toward Opulus. 

"I think that answers your question," Checkpoint whispers in disbelief as she gaps at the display flying over them.

Shockwave can distantly hear shouts between the crew as he watches in terrified awe as the ships deploy smaller drone-like ships from the two heavy cruisers and they descend on the planet. Plugging himself into the communications console he reaches out for any Deception frequencies and accesses his back channel into the Autobot's Communications Network. With only one ship and orders to not be seen _The Rouge_ leaves the Viburnum system as the Qidriedran ships begin their attack and Shockwave hears it all. 

Hears all the broadcasts from around the rim, from Autobot distress calls to Decepticon reports. It also seems their attack on Cybertron was too well done as it left almost no Autobots outside that could defend the planet. Their plan to siege their own vulnerable planet had been taken advantage by another entity and if they succeed the Decepticons will have lost their home once again.

All due to Autobot negligence and self-perceived superiority.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To recap about time again, I’m working on the basis that what is a couple hours on Earth could be a day or two on Cybertron. I know in Transwarped it's technically two days that go pass, but I crunched it into one. That's why when Megatron calls Shockwave in the morning and then when Optimus calls Ultra Magnus in the afternoon it's been awhile so Shockwave got all his stuff together and got away scott-free.


	3. (“Investigation”);

"My liege?"

Megatron turns from the screens with the hacked livefeed of the Autobots attempting to maintain their defensive line against the Qidried to Blitzwing as he stands at attention. 

"What is it Blitzwing?"

The Triple Changer salutes before handing him a datapad, "A report has just come in."

Taking it he sees its a joint report from Team Charr and Strike Squadron, "Outside of ze Athenia System a small Qidried fleet of eleven ships attacked our forces — _The silly little blueberries tried to fight us in space! Who fights living spacecrafts in space ~ HA-Ha-Ha-HAAA! _"

"The final result?" Megatron asks as he scans through Strika's detailed notes on the Qidried's weak points and strengths that she had seen in this battle.

"Ve held ze space bridge and decimated ze fleet, but lost twenty-five of sixty soldiers, my liege. Zhat brings our toll to hundred and three." Blitzwing surmises.

This was the sixth attack in two decacycles, but the most losses they have accumulated in one battle since this stand-off begun. Though compared to the Autobots' near two thousand losses from active fighting while his Decepticons watched and waited it was not that bad.

As of now Megatron knew there was a delicate line he was balancing on as his forces waited for his command.

If they fought now and succeed against the Qidried - as the invaders could not rage a war on two fronts - the Autobots may be given time to regroup and grow stronger, once again casting his people away from their home. And with the focused fighting the Decepticons would be less in numbers than before. The other option Megatron had was to sit idly by and wait to the end of the confrontation then strike. But in that time it may give this enemy the time they needed to not only grow to a more prodigious size, but to be a threat to be reckon with. And with that outcome Cybertron would still be lost to them. The last option was similar to the first and second, in that they would fight to claim some of the Autobot's planets from the Qidried and nothing more. But depending on who won - if they didn't wipe each other out – then the winner could still be too numerous for it to go in his Decepticons' favor. 

"This is a troubling state of affairs." He says to himself, looking back to the screens to see the Autobot line, set up outside of Vespa's ring system, begins to fall through.

"It iz indeed my liege." Blitzwing agrees solemnly as he takes a step forward to witness the carnage too.

Watching the Autobots' losing battle Megatron runs through his options again, and though he was not a keen strategist like Strika he knew that his last option was his army's best chance at survival. But he would not send them in blind.

"Blitzwing," Turning to the Triple Changer to address him he continues, "Contact Shockwave and tell him he has seven solar cycles to uses as many resources as necessary to research this new encroachment. I want his finished report sent to my highest generals and most elite teams," Looking to the screen when a particularity bright explosion happened Megatron grits his dentea in determination, "I want to know everything there is to know about these Qidried so we can properly squash them." He says lowly.

"Yes — **YEAH! ****LIKE THE FLESHY SAD SACKS ZEY ARE!**" Blitzwing bellows before his face changes back to pale purple.

Megatron finds the enthusiasm of one his more cracked followers infectious and his dermas quirk up slightly, "A way with words as always."

"I apologized my liege," He says, clearly embarrassed. But Megatron waves it off, used to it by now, "I shall go relay jour orders now."

To say that being back on Earth was wild was an understatement.

Jazz digged the midsize planet and its bright and wild style that he could only get bits of when he was at home. And this wild style extended to wild events too. Prowl was right, every solar cycle was something else. If this was a planet he got an assignment for he knows he would never get bored.

In the six solar cycles since they had landed here chasing after Wasp they had found out that they were basically exiled from Cybertron for the time being because of an attack, not from the Decepticons like they feared, but from a planet at the edge of the Vestial Imperium. Then finding out that Wasp was in fact framed and the Head of Intelligence was the true spy didn't stop Sentinel from still wanting to hunt him down, infuriated since he had made the arrest for Wasp in the first place, now convinced that he might have gone bad. Meanwhile, Wasp apparently planned a revenge plot for Bumblebee and switched places with the little yellow bot only to be found out because of the threat of playing a video game. Then two nights later they fought and captured Lugnut - with Optimus pulling off an epic move to immobilize the giant - only for them to spend the better part of the night trying, and failing, to pull the huge Decepticon out of the pit he made. Even with Jetstrom and Jetfire combined they couldn't do more than roll Lugnut over. And with Sentinel yelling at everyone to put their structs into it didn't help either. When Optimus finally got in contact with Bulkhead they all had to roll out to help stop a brewery - or a refinery as Prowl called it - from exploding because of some bots that Bulkhead quickly explained were friends/enemies/friends that just really liked their oil. And finally a solar cycle after that they were attacked by a squad of Seekers with the most annoying personalities.

Yeah, Earth truly was never boring.

But thankfully nothing like that was happening now, which gave him and the two Primes time to look over their planet's situation. With how the fighting was going in the Commonwealth the Autobots were barely holding on. Ultra Magnus didn't want to show their servo yet with their flagship and the last operable Supreme, but as Jazz looks over the new battlefield for the next engagement against these morphing aliens Jazz wishes he would. 

"What we should do is move the Praxus Battalion to the left flank of the canyon, so we can break through their line here." Sentinel says moving a blue piece across the three hundred hic wide canyon and drawing arrows to point out the motions.

Being second-in-command of the Elite Guard meant Sentinel had to support Magnus in anything he did. And until he called on them to return when they knew they had a clear path he was sidelined to battle tactics, stations, and statistics. Something Jazz knows Sentinel has no business in, but he held his glossa because there was another bot who excelled in them.

"That won't work Sentinel." Optimus points out calmly.

Whipping his helm to his left with a tight, but obviously annoyed grin, he asks, "And why _not_ old pal?"

"You forgot about the counterattack again. The Qidried can maneuver out of the way of our short range ammo attacks by way of flying," Optimus tells him gently as he walks around the side of the table, "Plus, if they act when you stated they'll be in front of the 89th infantry's line of fire. They would need to cover their back and front. It would easier if we move the Praxus Battalion from their right station flank to just support the the 89th and 101st infantries. It would be more practical then creating a situation to defend on two fronts."

"Well how are you going to break the line? They can't move forward from where they are now." Sentinel sneers, looking proud of himself for pointing out the obvious.****

Optimus takes a moment to review the board before pulling up the personnel files of the teams stationed on Beta Two. One nanoklik he's frowning and the next he's smiling to himself and Sentinel looks like he’s eaten a sparkplug.

"They're supposed to. This formation will give time to Team Gaia to cross over into the Qidried's territory to place either fall away tunnels or explosives. Since the team specializes in digging and electrical engineering it wouldn't be too hard." Optimus says lightly as he draws on where he would have them set bombs or trap tunnels.

"Are you serious?!" Sentinel huffs throwing his servos up, "They're labor forces for our trenches."

"And they'll be a surprise to the Qidried who are expecting rigid fighting from us," Optimus counters, his voice gaining a hard edge. A sign that he needed to be listened to, "If we can throw them off the way Autobots usually fight we might have a better chance. Remember, they aren't like anything we've fought before."

Looking at the map as a whole once Optimus is finished adding a few more movements and Jazz can't stop himself from playing a musical note through his vox in amazement.

"Impressive OP. I wouldn't have thought of that."

Sentinel just mumbles as he looks at the changes and saves them before pulling down another file.

As they continued to make changes, with Sentinel saying maybe five helpful things, Jazz became more focused on Optimus. He never really saw how the other Prime worked the last time he was here, but wow, he had missed out. Jazz could see why Magnus only had great things to say about him. His ideas were brilliant, practically seeing multiply moves ahead when he was creating a strategy. Even if he was expelled from the Elite guard they should have at least keep him on for consultations at Intelligence at least and just made the commanding option void to him. They needed this skill and experience closer to home.

But Jazz knew that probably wouldn't have been any better. He had seen the training Optimus had his bots go through, how he had advice to give and took criticisms from them into account, how they moved as a near perfect unit when in battle. Despite their circumstances they made for a powerful and equally happy team. Optimus just had a knack for getting bots to listen to him that made him such a good leader. Sentinel definitely could learn a thing, or twelve, from his old friend.

"Hey OP? I was wondering if —"

Looking up from the space bridge in the Alpha asteroid field Jazz gives pause when he sees Optimus staring glassy optic at his servos as they grip the edge of the table. 

Waiting and watching, Jazz sees Optimus vent after a long moment, sounding shaky around the edges only for the younger Prime to start fidgeting with his digits and looking at them perplexed. He starts flexing the joints before something snaps him out of it and he unspaces a loose crumbled ball of metal twine. Wrapping it around the joints of his digits Optimus begins to make shapes or plays with it for whatever reason. And regardless why it has Optimus calming down and his venting leveling out as he makes changes remotely to the board while keeping his digits busy. Jazz is so fascinated in watching this random event that he doesn't remember he's not the only one watching.

The harsh scoff has Jazz turning to look across the augmented reality table to Sentinel. Wearing a disgusted grimace with his arms folded he looks down his chin at Optimus.

"You still do that? Give it a break, it's so irritating." The blue Prime sneers.

Glancing over at Optimus he looks back with an annoyed look, but it's brief as he sighs and stops his activity, never saying anything as he subspaces the twine. After another half megacycle the meeting concludes with Sentinel leaving them to clean up, saying he needed to train the twins and leaves without so much as a 'catch you later'. Turning to Optimus who was subspacing some extra datapads to work on, Jazz shakes his head in bemusement.

_Does this bot ever rest? _

Walking over he hands him another pad that he missed, "Hey Optimus," And the younger Prime looks down at him curiously, patiently waiting for him to continue, "Don't be bothered by what he says. SP just blowing steam." 

"Thanks Jazz, I'm well aware of his habits. There isn't much I can do about that," He says with a sigh, giving the pad a long suffering stare, "It's just like old times... with me doing most of his work for him... Somethings don't change you just have to weather them." He says quietly before giving him a half-sparked smile and leaving.

* * *

Jazz wishes he had level of calm to take his own words to spark about ignoring Sentinel's slag. He was usually the most chilled out bot around, but what Sentinel had done was so deceitful that Jazz could have mistaken him for a Decepticon. And he sure as Pits wasn't going to keep his mouth shut about it. 

"I saw Optimus work on those," Jazz says as he stands up from his chair, his EM field sparking with outrage.

Turning around to the command chair, Sentinel just sends him an easy smile as he leans back further, "Well he just isn't bot enough to speak up. That's all. And the bots fighting need someone to ... look up to as it were. They need someone to thank for saving their skidplates." He shrugs, smirking all the while.

Hidden by his visor, Jazz's optics narrow in disgust, "And you just happen to be bot enough to claim the praise, right? I can't imagine why anyone want to look up to you."

Forty-eight finished battle plans in one solar cycle. Forty-eight!

Plans that Optimus had painstakingly gone over and came up with two contingencies - at least - for each battle since he couldn't be there in person to change them. He had quadruple checked the materials and skills of every bot accounted and made notes about certain attack strategies he had been able to notice. All this hard work and Sentinel didn't even blink as he handed it over with a too smug smirk, touting his 'battle prowess', and handing them over to Ultra Magnus, who takes them saying that a note of this would be made in his record.

The jaunty smile slides off his faceplates and that nasty grimace Sentinel always had comes back to his derma. Walking down to stand in front of him the Prime stands up straight to his full height to loom over him, trying to be an intimidating little aft, but Jazz isn't haven't it. Sentinel Prime really was the only bot that made Jazz want to forget his teachings and just punch that condescending look off his face. 

"Have something you want to add there, captain?" Stressing his lack of a suffix title.

Before anything else can be said the soft sound of mechanisms moving signaled that someone else had enter the room. Stepping back, Sentinel crosses his arms and gives him a disappointed look. If there was one thing Sentinel could play well it was that he was innocent of the problems he caused.

"Sentinel? Jazz? Is there was something wrong?" Optimus asks looking between the two with concern as he walks closer.

"Nothing for you to worry about. And it's not even your place to say something either," Sentinel tells him in a biting tone, "Besides, it was just a disagreement. Right, Jazz?"

The building pressure of him keeping his denta pressed together keeps him from saying anything in his defense, but as Optimus gets closer his passive expression becomes a frowns.

"Well I'm the Earth base commander Sentinel and if there are any disagreements I should know about them."

With that simple sentence he gently reminds them that as of now he was holding similar rank with the second-in-command of the Elite Guard, who had never had a planetary commission. Something Jazz knows his Prime has complained about almost nonstop.

"Acting a little high and mighty aren't you?” Sentinel accuses him through gritted denta.

"I just don't want any problems for our teams working together," Optimus adds, "So is there anything wrong?"

At that Sentinel's shoulder pauldrons rise up as he puffs himself up in size, the look he always had when he was ready to unload onto someone with a verbal onslaught. And as entertaining as it was to see Sentinel get his aft handed to him in a battle of words Jazz didn't want Optimus to be the brunt of Sentinel's constant bad attitude. He knew Optimus could handle himself but he got enough of this on a regular basis.

"No worries OP," He cuts into whatever the other Prime was gearing up to say, "It was just a disagreement. No need to worry." He says with a mild grin.

Optimus directs his gaze to him and Jazz's easy going smile almost slips off his faceplates. He knows he's a good liar, knows he's great at masking his emotions and EM field, but the look Optimus gives him now makes him rethink that.

The blue gaze was cold and calculating like he was peeling back layers of plating and finding out what Jazz really thought of this whole situation. And the blank expression didn't make it any better. For the entirety of it, it felt like he was staring right through him. It was nerve-racking.

Finally Optimus blinks and looks to Sentinel, who was still fuming, before back to him and then down as he looks away.

"Alright. As long as everything is fine. I just came to return these datapads." 

Handing the pads back to Sentinel he gives him a stern look and Sentinel glares back. That's when Jazz puts it all together. Even though he was trying to hide the truth Optimus knows Sentinel better and coupled with that knowledge he knows he was covering for Sentinel and he still lets it go. But as he leaves Jazz decides he wasn't going to.

* * *

"You and your staff have a right to know those plans —" 

"Yes I know Jazz," Ultra Magnus cuts him off before he could finish, "The plans were drawn up by Optimus Prime. I knows his work anywhere. Saving the most sparks and delivering the heaviest blows. Strategic placing of troops instead of raw might."

The air blown out of his tires Jazz's mouth opens in surprise, utterly confused.

"Why? If you knew why didn't you say anything, sir?"

As the Magnus sighs Jazz could see he looked more tired then he had ever seen the mech. The stellar cycles of his service and pain etched into his faceplates more than before as he looks off to the side in regret.

"Because this is how it is for Primes." Ultra Magnus says calmly, as if that was a fact, but it seemed more like a chromed lie to him.

"I was hoping... eventually... that Optimus would take the lead and show some pride in his work..." The Magnus trails off sadly before continuing with his usual commanding tone, "But if this is what happens now, so be it. And that will be it Jazz."

Jazz can hear the clear dismissal and stands at attention, saluting, but indifferently replies, "Of course Commander. Captain Jazz over and out."

_This decacycle could not get worse._

Optimus sighs heavily, which only serves to make his processor ache worse. All of Sentinel's gloating and waking him up at odd megacycles of the solar cycle to tell him something or ordering him around was getting older than it already was. On top of that for some reason his battle protocols keep onlining when Sentinel was in the vicinity aching, begging for a fight, to show him how outmatched and outclassed Sentinel really was against Decepticons. How he couldn't have captured those Decepticon lieutenants. Plus, he had it coming to him.

Biting his glossa and squeezing his optics shut against the pain and ridiculous thoughts, Optimus tries to stay still and count until he's sure he can open his optics without any pain. As he opens them he seems fine, the dull clanking pain is there but it's more manageable.

|| Optimus, old pal. ||

Clenching his fists and gritting his denta so not to scream Optimus reluctantly raises his left servo to answers his comm. and the bane of his recent pain. It was better to get it over with now than have his comm. be inundated with messages. 

|| What is it Sentinel? ||

He asks tersely only to hear tutting on the other end which just ends up kicking on his fans as they try to cool his anger filled body.

|| Optimus. Buddy. I hope you aren't raising your vox to me. ||

|| Just tell me what is so important. I have reports to write. ||

He hears muttering about 'taking the fun out of everything' before he receives a ping for a image file. Rolling his optics at Sentinel's behavior he opens to file only to feel his jaw drop in disbelief. There was no way Sentinel, barely a fighting machine, took down Lugnut when it took five of them.

|| How — Wh — How did you — ||

|| Oh Optimus. Are you speechless at my expertise? ||

|| More like confounded about how you're doing this. ||

|| Why Optimus you old dataplug. You're jealous. ||

Optimus doesn't even try to turn off his protocols now, itching for a chance to disprove Sentinel's cheery claim.

|| Jealous! Why would I be jealous? ||

Seething, he grips the edge of the communication's hub to ground himself against saying something that would give Sentinel more fuel to make fun of him for.

|| Well maybe because I've captured Megatron's top lieutenants in just a few solar cycles — ||

|| Sentinel. It is impossible for you to have done this alone. ||

|| Really? Well maybe you don't know me as well as you think. ||

He growls making static jumps across his comm. and has Optimus massaging his audial bolts because of it. Once again Sentinel was not understanding the full weight of what he's trying to say.

|| It's not just about knowing you. Its about knowing _them_. And what you've done is _impossible_. ||

|| Oh you love being the hero, but as soon as somebody else wants a turn you can't take the heat! ||

|| Sentinel — ||

But he cuts the transmission before Optimus could explain himself. Clenching his fists Optimus takes in a deep vent of cool air and lets it out, purging the record of their call and the image sent. He can't allow Sentinel's dangerous competitive nature get in the way of him doing his job.

"Optimus."

Jumping at the sound of his designation he turns to Prowl and is met with his very intense stare. Even with the visor on Optimus could feel the cyber-ninja's optics burrowing into him.

"Yes Prowl?" He asks cautiously, prompting the shorter mech to continue.

"I just wanted to know if you were alright. You looked like you were in pain and..."

"And?" 

"Your optics. Your optics were lavender again." Prowl tells him, with such a surety that Optimus is struck silence.

"...What? I-I'm not sure I follow you Prowl," The statement was so wild that Optimus was sure he misheard him, especially the 'again', "My optics are blue. Every Autobots optics are."

"True but...," And as Prowl trails off his gaze lingers on him for a few arresting nanokliks before he looks away, "But perhaps you're right. My height sometimes skew my view."

"Sure." He says softly.

But Optimus knows for a fact that Prowl's optical sensors are a few levels higher than his own. If Prowl says he saw it than he did and Optimus trusted him on it, but now...

"I can check on the prisoners if you want me to," Prowl says suddenly, changing the subject back to Optimus' first concern, "Something about this doesn't seem right to me either."

He thought about it, but knew Prowl still had a small issue with authority and with a bot like Sentinel Optimus could easily see the blue bot blowing a gasket with Prowl's invasive questions. 

Shaking his helm, "No. Not yet. Just go train with Jazz. I know you're excited to have someone else to match your skills against. We'll discuss this later." Hoping that Prowl would leave it alone for now so they could collaborate on a better way to confront Sentinel, or better yet, figure it out without Sentinel even finding out they were sneaking around.

The cyber-ninja gives him a perfunctory nod before transforming and doing a wheelie out of the base. As he watches Prowl turn the corner he thinks about what he had said, but as his optics find his datapads again he brushes off the odd comment and gets back to work.

_It's not my vision and that was not the first time._

Driving to the park that the _Steelhaven_ had landed in Prowl replays what he saw. But trying to make sense of it and calm the wariness that came with these incidents was perplexing Prowl more and more.

Before the flashes of purple were mere glints that Prowl caught at the edge of his visible range, but in the heat of battle he did not pay them much mind. But at the end of the last Earth stellar cycle Prowl had seen that the purple wasn't the trick of the gas heavy atmosphere. When Optimus yelled at him about his decision to rescue the Dinobots he had a clear view. Optimus' optics were brightened to a degree that Prowl didn't know could be achieved and on top of that his passive blue optics had bleed into lavender right in front of him. As he looked on in awe he heard Ratchet gasp quietly in fear. Before he could comment Ratchet was stepping forward and gently calming Optimus' temper and did so for the rest of the tense solar cycle.

After the fallout with the Allspark and the capture of Professor Sumdac, Prowl found Ratchet working on their ship's systems and asked about Prime's reaction. Barely getting the query out and the medic was already shouting at him not to finish his question only to quietly and sadly tell him to never bring it up again. He doesn't, but that doesn't stop Prowl from looking in the _Orion's_ databanks about it and he still finds nothing that could explain the odd phenomenon that he had witness at least seven times since the first clear encounter. It was like stating that Hadeen would turn blue every other stellar cycle. Optics changing color didn't happen.

As the _Steelhaven_ comes into view and Jazz waiting for him at the bottom of the ramp Prowl tries to push the thoughts and mystery around his commander away so he could focus. If he wasn't than Jazz would easily beat him and he wanted to impressed the higher level cyber-ninja with some of his unconventional skills and fight style. And it wasn't fair to either of them if he didn't give these sparring matches his all.

He only made it halfway to the training room while he listened happily to Jazz regale him about his discovery of body shops and how similar they were to chassis stylists back on Cybertron. But when he mentioned something about LED lights for cars the mystery around Optimus came back to the forefront of his processor.

"Jazz? You've spent more time on Cybertron than me. I was wondering have you ever heard of optics changing color?" 

The slightly taller ninja stops and looks at him as confused as Prowl felt. His full dermas pull up into a frown as he thinks, but after a few nanokliks he shrugs with a lost expression.

"Sorry Prowl. Can't say that I do. What brought this up?" 

_"Don't tell anyone Prowl! Just forget about... It will be better for everyone like that."_

Hearing Ratchet's pleading tone has Prowl pausing before saying quietly, "Nothing. It was nothing." 

To say Megatron was angry was underplaying his wrath.

He was furious! Burning with rage he decimated part of the quiet island and even that did nothing to quell his fury. On top of all of his followers being captured by that two-timing bounty hunter for a blowhard Autobot he had problems he could not solve because he was stuck on this infernal mudball!

Slipstream had brought him a report on how their attack on Elba was successful and Strika had released four hundred and fifty Decepticons from G-9, they had to pull forces back from several space bridge outposts as those _organics_ had attacked Ijurn!

They lost strategic footing on the rim of the Commonwealth when falling back to protect the Empire, but Ijurn had been secured at the expense of two hundred casualties, either KIA or MIA. Though the Qidried had far more casualties and destruction to their armada and had to pull back to the their newly conquered territory of the Imperium, it wasn't their expanse that worried Megatron.

It was the number of losses.

He knew his Decepticons and something wasn't right with those numbers. Reviewing the footage from the survivors these Qidried were proving as formidable as Shockwave's intel stated, Megatron even saw one bite though a heavily armored arm like a sharkticon through sheet metal. But that didn't take away from the fact that the Decepticons had held their own and he should not have lost so many. Something peculiar was going on and he was irked that he had no way to prove he wasn't overthinking this. Or worst, that the Qidried were worthy opponents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jazz isn't really given a rank, but he pilots the Steelhaven so I thought captain might be nice for him.  



	4. (“Compromise”);

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be updated a few days after the beginning of the year, but the chapter got away from me. Though it has more content so I guess that makes up for it.  


Rolling up to the plant, Jazz barely transforms and waves 'hi' to Bumblebee and Sari before the small organic is yelling over the video game music that Prowl was in his room. Shaking his head and trying not to look too deeply into how perceptive she was Jazz follows Sari's instructions and walks to the room in question. He wasn't here to see the other ninja, but knowing he was here Jazz had to make a pit stop because Prowl was always doing something that Jazz found amazing.

And the sight he finds is something completely peaceful and wonderful.

The black and gold cyber-ninja was truly the embodiment of grace and strength, even more so with his new upgrades. They didn't overpower him at all, they simply accentuated his perfections. Prowl just had a way of making everything he did elegant, and him simply trimming his organic plant was a perfect show of it. But it was enhanced by the faint upturn of his derma. A smile that was so soft yet captivating that Jazz had made it his mission to get at least one of those smiles directed at him when they hung out.

"Diggin' the new armor," Jazz tells him, breaking the silence gently, "especially Yoketron's helmet. He be proud to have you wear it." 

Turning to face him Prowl extends that soft smile to him and Jazz can't get enough of it. 

"You look good Prowl." He says softly.

The words are out before he can think about how damning they are and he has to watch in fear as Prowl's mouth opens in surprise. For a terrifying nanoklik Jazz is sure he's going to dismiss him, but instead Jazz is presented with another soft smile - _twice in one day!_ \- and Jazz can't stop himself from smiling back.

"Thank you. On both counts. I plan to do everything in my power to be worthy of it." Prowl says as he bows.

"I know you will." Bowing as well before taking a few steps closer, "So I really came by to grab OP's incident report, but since you're here and I'm here I was thinkin' maybe we could go out for a little drive. You know to the ship to drop off the report and then to wherever you want."

"That sounds pleasant Jazz. I could do with some relaxing."

Smiling back, glad that his visor lessened the adoring gaze he had for the other ninja, he tries to calm his rapidly beating spark and changes the subject, "Cool, so where is your fearless leader?"

"If he isn't in the main room he's likely in his quarters. Follow me." 

Following Prowl down to the farthest door in the hall he knocks and gets an immediate response to enter. Walking into Optimus' room Jazz was expecting tidiness and efficiency, but a full data center seemed a bit much for him. Getting closer he can see the mech was writing up the incident report on the run-in with the bounty hunter Lockdown. But from the wording it read more like a cover-up for Sentinel's dangerous and ambitious plan. But on the smaller screens Jazz could see small simulations of battles rendering and playing out. Even working on something else Optimus was making time to work on more battle plans.

"You really should show these to Magnus," He says as the tall mech turns in his chair, "Personally."

"I agree. They are most ingenious. The army would greatly benefit from these strategies." Prowl adds as he glances at one in the corner screens.

Optimus' optics widen as his temperature rises minutely, only Jazz's infrared vision picks up on it, and the taller mech hunches in on himself as he looks way from them, expression full of discomfort.

"That's — that's kind of you to say, but its not needed. As long as they're useful I'm content. That's what matters," Then staring forlornly at his screens he whispers, "But I just wish I could do more."

"We all do Optimus." Prowl tells him as he rest a comforting servo on the mech's shoulder, "But what more can you do?"

With a long sigh Optimus leans back in his chair and glares at the screens, "That's the point. It doesn't matter how I stage these encounters we're always missing one major component."

"Which is?"

"Strength," Optimus answers before frowning at a datapad at his left, "The Qidried are capable of generating pure muscle that is on par and exceeds our own power. The Autobots just don't have that brute strength to match up. Really no one on Cybertron has since..." 

And as he trails off he gets an indescribable look in his optics before he tilts his helm and his visor shadows his face.

"Since when?" Jazz asks.

"Since the Destrons. The Warframes... The Decepticons. Their strength and fire power coupled with their military prowess could easily repel the Qidried," And with a heavy sigh he turns to them with a grimace, "But I doubt they would even think about making a truce with us."

And Jazz can agree with that emphatically. He remembers all the fear and anger during the war and the pure terrify desperation at the end, on both sides. Jazz knows how brutal they can all be, but the Decepticons were a different class all together. He wouldn't dare ask for help from their enemy. Wouldn't even entertain the thought.

"You never know."

As Prowl and Optimus turn back to him in disbelief and Jazz finds himself surprises by his own words, saying the exact opposite of what he was thinking. But the longer the nanokliks tick by and he gives thought to their situation and the intelligence they have he knows why he said what he said. But that doesn't mean he has to like it.

"Hey, I'd be the first to say it be wack to work with them," Jazz defends himself, "but there are reports that they've been attacked too, and recently. Despite everything, Megatron is unbelievably intelligent. Maybe if we could get him to see our side and offer something in exchange so he might possibly help. We just need somebot who can keep up and not get dragged into his rhetoric."

While Prowl still looks skeptical Optimus begins to look thoughtful, "Maybe. But who would be this theoretical bot?"

Exchanging a brief glance with Prowl, who definitely had the same expression of 'Really?', they turn back to Optimus and wait for him to put the pieces together. When he does his optics widen to a point Jazz is afraid they might pop out of helm as the bot tries and fails to say anything. After a few hilarious moments of stuttering Optimus ducks his head and calms down enough to actually talk.

"Even if you're right Jazz I don’t even know if I could talk to them without being bias. But if I did I'd have to...," Trailing off, Optimus slowly raises his right servo to lightly lay over his chassis, an action Jazz had much to often. It meant an Amica or a Conjunx was gravely injured, or worst, dead.

"_If _I had to, there is more at stake than my own feelings. If the situation ever presented itself I would try." Optimus says, looking up with a determine shine to his optics and a stern frown.

If he didn't think Optimus Prime was an amazingly brave bot before he definitely did now for putting so much on the line. His team and the Autobots as a whole were luckily to have him.

* * *

Despite his intentions to not push Optimus to talk to Ultra Magnus, because the bot is pretty intimidating, he also didn't want to put Optimus on the spot. Yet that's exactly what he did.

"Is there something you want to share old pal," Sentinel sneers, looking overly happy, "I'm sure whatever you're talking about will be _so _helpful to the Council since you couldn't wait to discuss it later."

Ultra Magnus had called Optimus and Ratchet to have a meeting with him about the readiness of Omega Supreme and the troubles the Autobots were facing at large. The Qidried had gotten closer, taking a sixth core world in the Commonwealth. They now officially surrounded Cybertron meaning an attack on their homeworld was immediate. Jazz had been quietly asking if using the theoretically combined forces at Floron Three would have made a difference and Optimus had been whispering back his thoughts when Sentinel caught them. Jazz wouldn't say anything but he had a feeling if prompted that Optimus would be truthful.

"Sentinel Prime," Magnus softly reprimands him before turning his gaze to them, "But I am curious to what has taken such importance in this already urgent meeting?"

Optimus stares back like a caught turbofox and Jazz is afraid he might crack his plating with how still he's holding himself. His optics move from the Magnus to the Domesticus Councilor and then to the Minster of Science before landing on a smug Sentinel. Looking away from his former friend quickly Optimus' gaze looks like it settles somewhere between Alpha Trion and Ultra Magnus, and Jazz might being seeing things, but it looks like Alpha Trion nods to the other Prime.

Sitting up straighter Optimus tries to look determined as he says, "It may sound a bit unheroic sir, but if you’re willing to listen."

"I think we could use something like that now. What is your idea Optimus Prime?"

He's quick and to the point as he outlines his plan and by the end of it there are more than a few raised optic ridges. And raised voices.

"You can't be serious?!" Ratchet shouts as he stands from his chair and Jazz can feel the sharp edges of his EM field across the table.

"I agree with the medic," Sentinel adds, "Optimus, has this planet rotted your processor? That will never work."

"I'm fine thank you," Optimus answers stiffly before turning to his medic, "And yes Ratchet, I am serious. More than I like to say."

"It's not unheard of."

Argument forgotten everyone turns to their Magnus as he speaks, "In our history we have been know to use them —"

"No," Optimus cuts in, standing from his seat, "We have to have them help us. We need full cooperation sir."

"And how would you obtain something like that Optimus Prime?" Ultra Magnus asks, looking vaguely proud of Optimus standing up for himself.

"Purpose a true truce and treaty instead of the Tyrest Accord. They still want Cybertron so we should give it to them. On certain terms."

Jazz was definitely not expecting that and from the looks on the screen neither was the Council. Jazz doesn't think he's ever seen any of the big three ever look so surprise... well ever, but now he knows he never wants to see Preceptor show emotions again. 

"This is crazy!" Ratchet shouts again slamming the table for emphases.

"Ratchet we don't have a lot of options and it's just a proposal, it doesn't mean what you think." Optimus tries to convince him gently, but as Ratchet's EM spike harshly again that they all flinch from it Jazz knows he's unreachable.

"It doesn't mean — _It means everything!_"

Not giving anyone time to say anything he stomps out of the ready room and into the depth of the ship. It's only the clearing of someone's intake that gets their attention back on the screens.

"Ratchet's reaction is likely to be much of the populous Optimus Prime. It may not be wise." Ultra Magnus says.

"I don't think you give them enough credit," Optimus reasons, "They'll realize the situation they're in and I think they can handle it."

Ultra Magnus hesitate to answer, but it doesn't stop Alpha Trion from speaking up.

"I agree with the Commander. He has brought a path to light that we fear to tread."

"With good reason." The Magnus reminds the Councilor.

"Yes, but at the rate we are losing ground I believe this is a good reason. Desperation can breed the strongest alliances." The ancient mech tells him sounding very resolute in his decision.

"You can't be seriously considering this?" Sentinel shrieks, pointing an accusing digit across the table, "Considering _his_ plan?! Its' insane! It'll never work —"

"Given proper incentives the inclusion of a Decepticon presence at our command would give a rating of 87.3% in favor of success. If they aided us." Preceptor adds in his monotonous voice making the vote two to one.

"I see," Ultra Magnus sighs heavily, "Against my better judgement I give my consent as Magnus of Cybertron to have you, Sentinel Prime, Elite Guard Second, and Optimus Prime, Commander of Earth, to make contact with the Decepticons and procure an alliance."

_I should of known this would happen. I should have done something. I shouldn't have ignore this._

"Ratchet."

Turning around and seeing Optimus look so honest and confused breaks Ratchet's spark, knowing it was all a lie, and that fuels his anger easily.

"No!" Spinning around fully, his balance almost comprised by the speed of it, he points a digit at his so-call leader, "Whatever you're about to say to try and change my mind — No! I can't — _I won't_ — after everything the Decepticons have done — then and now! How could you? ... Why kid? Why? ... What am I saying... It's not a surprise and I'm a fool for thinking differently." He whispers to himself.

Looking back up at the younger mech in disdain Ratchet is shocked to see an expression of hurt and distress. That has the last of his anger dissipating, but it's too late. Already Optimus' faceplates had taken on that resign acceptance, one he had when Sentinel Prime was being a crankshaft towards him, and it made it so much worse to see that look caused by him. Optimus' shoulders act like they're buckling under some intense force and he slouches forward in a deprecating way as he turns his helm away.

"Kid... I didn't —"

"It's okay Ratchet, I understand. I know you don't like this. None of us do, me included. But something has to be done." He says quietly as he tilts his helm down to hide his optics, "Thousand of Autobots are going offline and — and I can't just stand by and do nothing! Even if this idea is as far-fetched as it seems at least we tried... I want to try."

And despite hearing such sparkfelt words Ratchet still finds himself asking in a dubious tone, "Is that all?"

Turning to him with wounded optics Optimus stares at him in confusion before answering.

"Yes Ratchet. Of course it is. What else would there be?" Letting the question hang in the air Optimus' expression goes from perplexed to concern in a flat nanoklik, "Is there something else you think is going on?" He asks worriedly, searching his face for a reaction.

Staying calm Ratchet sighs and shakes his head, "...No. No I'm getting older and not running as efficiently as I did. Reacting to things easier or seeing things that might not truly be there."

Giving him an understanding nod, Optimus reaches out but his servo stops just shy of Ratchet's shoulder for a moment before he's laying a warm servo on it, "Ratchet its okay. We're all kind of stressed right now, if you want we can discuss this later."

Seeing the hesitation and knowing he had really hurt the younger bot's feelings Ratchet knows the best thing was to give him some space.

"No. I... It's fine. I'm fine." He waves him off gently mustering up his best grin, "You should be more focused on what you're going to say to that buckethead if you get the chance."

With that Ratchet turns away from his young leader and walks down the ramp door intent to get as far away as he can, not caring that he was running away. He surprises himself as he rolls into their empty base plant without breaking down and drags himself to his room. Stumbling into it as soon as the door opens Ratchet feels the metaphorical steam in his vents seep out as he heavily leans on one of the bookcases they installed for his datapads. With no strength left he rest his weight against it as his systems hiccup at him for cycling through too many actions too quickly, leaving him in the quiet with only his thoughts.

How could he ever think that of Optimus, after what he’s been through! The paranoia left over from war must have been worst then he thought. Though deep down he knew that it never really left him.

_By the Allspark! I hate — hate this so much! But... But I need to trust Optimus._

The young bot needed all the support he could get, especially with the big chinned idiot and Magnus being his usual stubborn self. If anyone wanted bots to be inspired to do something great Optimus Prime was their best choice, he just had something in his spark that made him a great leader. Ratchet doesn’t know how it would go over with the Decepticons but well... he’s sure Optimus will surprise them. 

That's why he wants to blame his recent reaction on his age or bad optic circuits even more but he knows it's his own fear. He knows what he saw on that day. He knows what he felt in the kid's EM field — pure unleashed rage. Something Ratchet had only felt when in he was in the war.

When he was facing Decepticons.

"— AND FOR THEM TO THINK THEY ARE WORTHY TO EVEN SHARE THE SAME SPACE, LET ALONE THE SAME PLANET AS YOU, MY MAGNIFICENT LEADER! IT IS VILE! AND —"

Turning off his audials again, Megatron watches as Lugnut continues to shout and wildly shake his servos at the ceiling. More appropriately, the hole he made in the ceiling.

The behemoth bruiser had crashed through the top of the base as he and his apparently competent subordinates were planning a prison break for his captured warriors. And before he could ask Lugnut how he had escape he launched into a pitiful apology for being captured and for not freeing himself as the Autobots had let him go with a message. This left Megatron listening to a rant about the Autobots and their deceitful ways and not at all about what the message the Autobots had sent. Even without sound, the centuries of listening to one of his most ardent followers had Megatron's processor supplying him with phrases of past monologues. Glancing to his right he sees the two femmes weren't doing much better. Slipstream had a similar expression to Starscream's when he was plotting someone's demise and Blackarachnia was silently banging her helm against the wall. 

"Lugnut!" 

His lieutenant freezes instantly in an unbalanced pose and promptly falls overs, shaking the immediate area. Turning back on his audials he hears the groaning and mumbled reply 'I'm okay' and turns to Blackarachnia.

"You know of this Autobot Commander, the red and blue one. What do you have to say on his honesty?" 

If anyone was going to try something as audacious as this Megatron could only assume it was the small Autobot leader that kept getting in his way. No one else would even dare.

She tightens her stance before relaxing and frowning heavily, "Well he wasn't a Commander last time I checked, no one wanted to take him seriously. But he's honorable to a fault and disgusting nice and optimistic, hence the designation," And with a resigned sigh she rolls her optics and scowls, "If you _had_ to talk to someone he would be the bot." She answers, sounding almost proud of this Autobot.

"So what will you do?" Slipstream asks.

"Master! You can't — !" 

"Silence!" His voice echoing quietly in the shambles of their base, "I think I will indulge them. It's been rather boring waiting for our rescue and whatever he wishes to speak about will be about the current problem we both face."

"And... that's it?" Slipstream asks, the only one brave enough to question him.

Grinning, he turns to her, "Of course not. I intent for him to beg."

Even with solar cycles of preparing what he was going to say Optimus still felt unbelievably underprepared. The stress of pulling something like this off was second to the apprehension he was feeling at having to stand across from Megatron and not immediately plan how to get to three of the weak points he had found by trial and error.

An Earth week ago, Lugnut came crashing into the docks and the moment they arrived he shouted at them that Megatron would hold a short audience with them near the clearing of the Decepticons' failed mine base. Optimus accepted, or tried to, but Sentinel stepped in to try and change the meeting location because he didn't want to meet in the woods. Surprisingly, Lugnut didn't blow him up. The Decepticon just squint all five optics at the blue bot and said, in what Optimus assumes is his indoor voice, that he was not talking to Sentinel but in fact Optimus and only Optimus. He told him not to keep his lord waiting and rocketed into the sky. The subsequent meltdown and one-sided shouting match later between him and his former friend and Optimus found himself standing in front of the _Steelhaven’s_ main screen as Ultra Magnus’ told Optimus to head up the meeting with Megatron alone.

Now along with Jazz as back up they pull up into the forest clearing and can hear that they don't have long to wait. Transforming, they look up to see a gunmetal and mahogany military helicopter begin to descend and transform into,

"Megatron." Optimus greets him, trying to keep his tone neutral.

But as the Decepticon smirks Optimus finds himself frowning.

"Little Autobot." He replies, one of his fangs showing just under the curve of his derma. 

Gritting his dentae so he didn't bare them like an angry youngling Optimus corrects him once more.

"My name is Optimus Prime."

Optimus had secretly hoped that when they release Lugnut that he won't tell Megatron what he asked him to relay. But another part had begged that it worked, mostly for all the Autobots fighting at the front line but also to satisfied his thoughts on the other leader. Still remembering all the text he had read and holo-vids he watched of the lauded emperor it still left a fascination to him even after a year of battling him and trading insults. A small part of Optimus' processor, obviously the naive part, still wished to speak to Megatron and ask him as many questions as his mind could supply. But there was no time for that.

"Now that we're done with our usual greeting, what is so urgent that you wish to speak about that you would release one of my own lieutenants back to me?" His voice smoothly rolling over his words, a characteristic that Optimus noticed and couldn't get off his processor.

Squaring his shoulders Optimus tries to look important even though he felt far from it, "We let go of Lugnut to show that what we have to say is in good faith."

"How diplomatic," Megatron sneers as he takes a step closer, "Much more so then when you kicked me out through the airlock."

_Not that it did any good._

"You did what?" Jazz asks in surprise.

"That's not important right now." He whispers back, never taking his optics off his foe.

"True. As you were saying."

Megatron pushes for him to continue even though he was the on to get them off track. Standing straighter Optimus lets his EM field stretch further than he would usually and reverts back to his neutral tone, trying to channel Ultra Magnus as he began these negotiations.

"We call this meeting today to impress the importance of the threat we both face and ask for your assistance in quelling the attacks."

"I am aware," He says in a bored tone, only for his expression to turn into his pompous sneer, "But tell me, why I should care? Would it not be in my best interest to wait and fight a weakened armada. You'll be decimated and they'll be the only thing standing in my way."

"And risk your people? They haven't stop at attacking Autobots, we know they attacked Ijurn."

"They tried and failed," Megatron smirks triumphantly, "While you have been barely holding positions we deftly held them back. A significant difference compared to your Elite Guard."

Knowing that the sentimentality for life is off the table - _even for his own soldiers?!_ \- Optimus goes for a more municipal approach, "Well think of the destruction left in their wake. If you wait you'll have stellar cycles of work ahead of you and it would be far easier to implement regulations then overhaul completely damaged cities."

"It would present a certain ease to rebuilding the planet in the ideal fashion." Megatron waves an uninterested servo and turns to stand in profile.

"What makes you so sure that you'll win?!" 

As soon as the shout dies down Optimus watches as the bot before him folds his arms and turns back to glare down at him. He was used to being dismissed and is usually unbothered by it, but Megatron doing it just made something snap. But he had turned back around and he was watching him, listening to him. 

“OP,” Jazz hisses as he leans in closer, “Maybe, don’t piss him off.”

Except he had to. He couldn't treat this like how Ultra Magnus would, he had to be more brash, caustic. Optimus had to grab Megatron's attention or he'll lose him. He needed to hit Megatron where it hurt the most.

His pride.

Pulling up the memories he had about everything he ever read and what the leader supposedly fought for Optimus went to poke the sleeping predacon before him.

"You don't know if you'll win. You're just overly confident and hoping you'll be strong enough. And if you're not successful do you really want someone else to have the honor of conquering Cybertron? Something you couldn't do."

“Optimus. What are you —”

"How dare you?" Megatron growls, looming over them and casting his shadow over them.

As Megatron's optics seem to burn into his helm Optimus feels a surge of satisfaction at getting under his plating and grins up mildly at the Warframe.

"You were close once and lost miserably. To have someone not of our world rule Cybertron would be an insult wouldn't it? If you don't help us you would be setting us all up for that." Optimus accuses him, his voice mocking to his own audials.

But as swiftly as the joy of annoying Megatron came Optimus remembered his purpose and took a deep vent, pushing the feeling down before continuing, "As an Autobot I can admit we aren't the strongest, that it was our ingenuity and ability to construct that won us the war. What is needed now is to combine our forces to stand a chance, or we both lose."

The anger that once filled Megatron's face slowly smooths out into a neutral expression, but his optics remain narrowed, as if he was thinking it over.

"Interesting though debatable points," He says dryly, "And what would I receive in return?"

"First, the Decepticons Lockdown captured. We will return them with their weapons like we did for Lugnut. Secondly, that we cooperate and coordinate in a liaison fashion so no one feels pressured to follow a command from a different faction. And finally peace talk. True peace talks."

The look of distrust is not surprising, he's used to not being trusted, but the peripheral view of shock from Jazz has him keeping his sight on Megatron. 

"We are asking something of you that you can easily deny us, but I am asking you to see the advantage in all this. We’ll be crushed and it may take some time for them to do the same to your empire, but the Qidried had expanded to half of the Vestial Imperium before attacking the Commonwealth. They’ll soon have the firepower to match your strength. To stop this we need to work together."

Tapping a digit on his arm Megatron regards him almost seriously for the first time, "And why not look to any others in the Imperium?"

While Optimus doesn't know the true answer he can take a pretty accurate guess about it. Everything he was about to say was his own opinion, gleamed by experience. He knew he had come around from some of the things that were taught in the Academy, but not everything from that time was false. He had to word this to sound just right, not only for Megatron but for everyone listening and watching through Jazz's visor hook up.

"Because the Council, in trying to do their best for us, they have become too cautious. I have been too. To assume all organic planet can be dangerous or... or that the only war criminals in the Greta War were the Decepticons.

At that intrigue briefly comes over Megatron's faceplates before disappearing just as fast. 

"I know Warframes are still wandering throughout the galaxy. If the talks go through all of you will be able to come home and have what you started the war for. Peace and equality, which you should have, just as any sentient Autobot has. Any Cybertronian should have." 

Staring intently Megatron steps closer again forcing Optimus to crane his neck up to still look him in the optics.

"What if I am not satisfied with that?" He asks lowly, his velvety voice rolling over Optimus like thunder as he views him with a level of scrutiny that has Optimus wanting to hide, but also lash out for some reason.

"Than I cannot help you with that. This is my faction's offer," Taking a step back - even though everything in him is yelling at him to step closer, to meet the threat head on, - he relents ground to Megatron and hopes it's enough, "I won't beg, but I ask you to reconsider."

Megatron considers him carefully before asking, "How do you know about the beginnings of the Revolution?"

The young Autobot looks briefly confused before he's staring back and Megatron can see his processor working to decide if he was asking a genuine question, testing him, or if he should answer at all. And truthfully it was all of the above.

"I made it my hobby to go through the Hall of Records and learn about our history." He finally says.

Taking in those critical optics Megatron didn't miss the use of _our_ as he referred to his so-called leisure reading. 

"That is an astoundingly astute past time."

"Don’t be so surprised." The Autobot says with a grimace.

"It's not every solar cycle I meet a learned Autobot instead of one that quivers in fear. This a phenomenon I never thought I’d witness." Megatron tells him and finds himself not annoyed, but impressed when he sees the Autobot leader still under his gaze. Not in terror but watching him, calculating, and trying to decide his next possible move with his overly bright optics.

_Intriguing indeed._

"Paint me impressed," He says as he turns away from the shorter mechs, "For that I will give some thought to your proposition."

He did not expect a response nor wanted one, but regardless his read-out received a ping. Opening it after the virus checks came back clean Megatron finds himself with a new communication link code. Pausing Megatron turns around halfway to meet the Autobot's optics.

"Its for when you finally wish to contact us." The Autobot leader tells him sternly.

_Such arrogance._

Turning back around Megatron engages his thrusters and flies back to the base, taking a different route. In that time he checks to make sure no tracking devices were placed on him and contemplates his encounter.

The overall encounter was much more peaceful then Megatron expected. The competence and elegance of the young Autobot's words were surprising to say the least. Not once had he said anything truly derogatory to his kind and during the entire time his EM field was unrestrained so Megatron could tell he wasn't lying.

Which irked him.

This brightly colored bot was now growing to be his greatest personal enemy and he could not begrudge the fact that he was a worthy opponent. His actions and words were living up to the ideals the morally ambiguous Autobots painted themselves as.

Resolving he was finished being caught off guard by the smaller bot Megatron plans to contact Shockwave and have him use his backdoor into the intelligence database so he can learn more about this Prime as he was becoming a present factor in everything Megatron did. No more would he be in the dark underestimating this Prime. 'Know thy enemy as yourself and great understanding will come', one such Cybertronian scholar had said and with this Autobot, this Optimus Prime, Megatron needed to take account of everything he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I'm not moving the story too fast ¯\\_(^︹^)_/¯, but on the brightside Jazz/Prowl content is going to be a thing now and tensions are building (⁀ᗢ⁀)


	5. (“Concern”);

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter so soon???? You're welcome (;￣︶￣;)  
Also double lines are flashbacks.

"Little buddy? You’re going to make me dizzy if you keep pacing like that." Bulkhead tells him as he looks up again.

He was typing out another entry in his ongoing report on the construction of their own space bridge, but Bumblebee had too much on his processor to care. An oxymoron if he ever heard one.

"I can’t help it Bulk!" He shouts throwing his hands up, "A... A lot's happened and I don’t know what to do about it." Bumblebee says to himself.

Really that was an understatement when Bumblebee actually thought about it.

Getting attacked and made to look like the ‘enemy’ so that his own team went after him was rough and really painful. Then spending the next Earth month afterwards trying to track Wasp down to tell him the good news about his new acquitted status was boring. And when they finally cornered him Bumblebee almost got zapped for trying to explain what really happened, which sucked and was kinda rude. It only got worse from there when Bossbot and Sarge started arguing and Wasp tried to make his getaway only to get snatched up by that flying Dinobot. If it wasn’t for Jazz and Prowl doing their own patrol or Prowl and his upgraded jet pack who knows what would have happened to Wasp.

Besides the last 1,050 slagging stellar cycles in prison.

_ Frag. I really messed up. _

Before he can worry any more, which gives him a helmache and has his tanks churning just thinking about it, Ratchet stomps into the main room. 

"Alright, I’ve got our captive guest looked over and update on all his coding and software. And I installed an extra anti-virus, especially if he’s going to be spending any more time on this planet with us." Ratchet bites out.

The old bot had been on edge for days since Optimus told them that their secret meeting with Command ended with proposing a temporary truce with the Decepticons. Bumblebee wasn't on board with it at all, but as Prowl so delicately put it, they must be in a lot of trouble to even think about this as an option. And after the meeting, Ratchet was even more crotchety and tense than usual, making Bumblebee way more hesitant around the medic. Though his mouth was another story.

"That's great and all Docbot, but not really what I'm here for. Can I —"

"What did I say a megacycle ago?" Ratchet cuts in with a groan, rubbing at his optics.

"That I could go in when you were finished."

"Well am I finish?" Ratchet turns a mean glare his way and Bumblebee takes some steps back.

"You know, I never know for sure," Spills out before he can stop it, "There’s usually always something else that —"

"Bumblebee!" 

"Going! Going! Yeesh!" He definitely didn't squeak as he speeds past him into the hall.

But only a few steps away and a surge of gratitude comes over him and he's walking back, "Hey Docbot... Thanks."

Ratchet's frown weakens a bit before he's waving him off down the hall, "Whatever, get going before the massive chin tries to court-martial me for letting you talk to another civilian." Then stretching, which makes a horrible creaking sound, Ratchet makes his way to the exit mumbling about visiting Omega Supreme.

Looking back down the hall Bumblebee tries to take a step forward but can't. For once in his life, he's stuck standing still.

_ Ugh! Move you stupid legs! It's not hard! _

"Bumblebee?" Soon the dim hall is darker as Bulkhead's shadow falls over him.

"What if he doesn't want to talk," A pitiful whisper works it's way out of his vox, "I mean I know he doesn't, but..." Then Bulkhead's servo is gently patting his head.

"He probably doesn't, but I think you're doing the right thing apologizing. You're being the bigger bot, y'ah know." Bulkhead says softly.

Bumblebee nods along, but doesn't really feel it, "You better be right since you're so smart now." He jokes, but his voice crackles so much he wouldn't even call it that.

"Gotta try to find out," Bulkhead says and gives him an encouraging little push down the hall.

It's a struggle, as he looks back to Bulkhead a lot of times, but he makes it down to the closed Medbay door. Venting deeply Bumblebee presses the button and watches as the door slowly slides up, fold by fold, until it stops with its usual rattle.

The first thing he sees is that the table was propped up to be comfortable. The second thing he sees is that Wasp was awake. Sure he was struggling to get out of his restraints, but at least he's awake.

Taking only a step in and the struggles stop and Bumblebee finds himself on the other end of a frightening purple glare. Looking back down the hall, Bulkhead makes a shooing motion for him to keep going and shuffles back into the main room. With his moral support gone and his room down the opposite way, Bumblebee taps into the confidence he usually has and forces his body forward. Every movement Wasp follows silently like one of those predators on Prowl's nature shows. 

"Heeey Wasp," He says with an admittedly dorky grin and waves when he stops next to the table.

Wasp just glares harder.

"So we really didn't get to talk after we caught you...or before."

Now he's just hissing at him.

"Okay look! I'm just trying to say I'm sorry for what I did, but you have to admit you don't make it easy! You never did!" Bumblebee yells at him, pointing an accusatory digit at him, "You were rude from day one and you expect people not to expect the worst of you."

"Wasp was only trying to be best bot there is!" He snaps back shaking in his restraints, "Bumblebot was bad and Wasp needed to tell Bumblebot!"

"Why?!"

"Because Bumblebot would get him and everyone hurt!" Wasp screeches like it was a fact he could not get through Bumblebee's helm, "Bumblebot not have good aim. Bumblebot injure others. Bumblebot worse." He hisses.

_ Okay, that does it! _

Fuel boiling in his pumps Bumblebee leans over Wasp and pokes him hard in the chassis, "That's no reason to be mean to me! Pit! We're the same model —"

"Wasp's Wasp!" He shouts and the suddenness has Bumblebee almost falling his pedes in surprise. Wasp then starts to shake harder as he attempts to wrench himself from the medical table, "Wasp isn't like everyone else! Wasp's Wasp. Wasp's special. Teacherbots wrong!"

With his rant finished the Medbay settles into quiet with heavy venting and the low hum of Wasp's engine. Watching as the other cycles in air to cool himself Bumblebee was shocked speechless. He wasn't expecting that and more surprisingly he wasn't expecting to understand what Wasp went through, even though it should seem obvious.

"You grew up in a hive center too." It was more of a statement than a question.

And then Bumblebee's back there, back at Center 1343, and looking around all the femmes and mechs in shells like him, lost in a sea of himself.

"... What did the others become?"

Wasp sends him another glare, but it was weaker this time. Turning completely away he goes still and after a few nanokliks Bumblebee thinks he's done with him. He goes to walk away but stops when a quiet voice fills the room. 

"Wasp's hive mates are scientists and explorers...... Teacherbots told Wasp he not good enough. He wasn't smart enough, only good at fighting... Too rough... Too much like Decepticons. Wasp is _not _Decepticon." He says softly, sounding more and more pained as his vox cracks.

"I... I'm... Wow, that's sucks," Is all Bumblebee could muster as he thought about how he made Wasp's biggest nightmare come to life. 

"I was ignored," Bumblebee offers, "I told them I wanted to be in the Elite Guard and one of my teacherbots said I wouldn't amount to anything there. So I tried to show them, show them I could be someone... I guess now I kinda did. Fighting Decepticons and saving this planet and all."

But Wasp doesn't say anything, just turns back and stares blankly at him like he was looking into his spark chamber. Not handling the intensity of the vacant stare Bumblebee looks away, rubbing at the back of his helm feeling unbelievably weird and vulnerable like this. He hadn't even told Bulk about that, mostly because he wanted to forget it and because he had already proven he was better than what they said. 

"So I guess life hasn't been great for either of us, yours way worse than mine," Finally breaking the silence as he was never really able to handle it, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for claiming you were a traitor and getting you locked away. So forgiven?"

"No." Wasp answers shortly.

"Fair," Bumblebee agrees knowing he'd probably hold a grudge for a few stellar cycles too. But he isn't if not stubborn, "Second chance?" He tries.

Wasp's optics narrow, but he doesn't say 'no' so he's counting it as a win. A partial win.

"Well I'm sure you don't want to go to the_ Steelhaven_," And with how fast he shakes his head 'no' Bumblebee continues, "So I'm sure Bossbot, Optimus, will let you stay if you ask him. He's nice like that. You'll have to promise to follow his rules and probably help with the chores and patrols and some other slag too. Also, he's kinda uptight, but not too bad. Um, what else... Oh! So if you're staying with us until you can get back to Cybertron there's a war that started —"

"Decepticons?" Wasp perks up, optics wide in shock.

"Actually no, which is wild. It's some shapeshifting organics that are like as tall as Bulkhead. They're blue and have four optics, which seems like too many for me... I'm sure Bossbot said something else but I wasn't listening," And he ignores the optic roll Wasp gives at that, "But they're attacking Cybertron and all the planets so we had to ask the Decepticons to help, but we haven't heard anything yet —"

"You Bumblebot traitor!?" Wasp shouts at him, making him jump back as well.

But as Bumblebee thinks about it, it has him chuckling to himself, "Kinda, but if that’s so then everyone here but you is a traitor."

Wasp seems to freeze with his mouth wide open and stares at him blankly. Then like wires being cut he flops back onto the table and stares at the ceiling.

"Wasp not traitor. Wasp told them. They don’t listen. Wasp not traitor." He mutters as his engine begins hiccuping and stalling as his optics fog up.

Quickly covering the short distances between them, Bumblebee stands at the side of the table, panicking, for what he should do to calm Wasp down.

"I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry." And going with some random instinct Bumblebee takes ahold of his servo and Wasp latches on for dear life.

"It's alright now. It is or it will be... If you want you could come with us and prove yourself. It's not the best, but its, it's something." Bumblebee tries to get him to calm down, and against all odds it works!

Wasp settles back and looks over to him and they share a long look before he's squeezing his servo only to then shake it off like a shred-fly bit him.

"Wasp will,_ but_ not because Bumblebot asked. Because Wasp can fight!" He says in a huff, puffing out his plating just enough to seem bigger.

"Cool," Bumblebee smiles, happy that Wasp wasn't going to take revenge on him anytime soon, "I'll tell the Bossbot. Like I said he's okay and way better than the Sarge was." 

"Everyone is better than Sargebot." Wasp agrees and Bumblebee is sure he saw his dermas pull into a small smile behind his faceguard.

Chuckling, Bumblebee nods along, "True true. So uh just wait here and I'll go get him," Wasp gives him a look that says 'What else am I supposed to do' and Bumblebee just rolls his optics at him.

Only getting two steps outside of the Medbay and Bumblebee finds himself stuck again and turns back.

"Hey Wasp?"

And when those bright purple optics catch his another sense of purpose fills his spark.

"I am really sorry for everything. I'll – I'll find a way to make it up to you. I promise."

Steepling his servos, Megatron rests his dermas against them as his gaze narrows at the image on the screen. Recalling his talk with Shockwave and what he had discovered for him about the young Prime has left Megatron thinking about how this could fit into the Autobots' plead for help. There was always a catch to their offers, but this one was turning into a strange development.

* * *

* * *

As the image clears to reveal each other, Shockwave bows in reverence, "My liege." 

"Shockwave, my most trusted follower. I require your expertise." Megatron intones.

"What can I do to serve you, my lord?"

"The Autobot Commander here on Earth, Optimus Prime, what information can you find on him?"

"In a few moments, I will have all his files."

Quiet methodical taps fill the room before it stops and Shockwave is humming curiously at something off-screen, "It seems that your current nuisance has quite the infamous record."

"How so?" He asks allowing Shockwave to continue reading ahead before displaying it on the monitors.

"He seems to hold the highest grades that the Autobot Academy has ever seen. And not only did Optimus Prime pass all his courses flawlessly, but he also took more classes than usual and still placed higher than some of the current Primes I had to work with. His simulated combat records are – are quite astounding — For an Autobot. According to his instructors’ notes, he was something spectacular and was on the fast track to becoming the new Magnus some solar cycle," Looking up, the focal of his optic narrows, "Which is odd from the explanation you've given me." Shockwave says in obvious confusion.

As Megatron skimmed through the instructor's praise of their once student he found himself also perplexed, "Yes. How does a Magnus-in-training end up in the middle of nowhere?"

It’s silent for a moment as Shockwave scans for an answer, "Ah-ha. He was expelled right before graduation. It was due to an incident with two other cadets in his unit. They went to an off-limits organic world, Archane Seven, and one of the cadets was lost. Optimus Prime took full responsibility as senior cadet, even though the testimonies seems stilted, clearly pointing to something being covered up. But regardless, he was dismissed from the Academy."

"If he was only a Cadet he has never held the rank of Minor or Major. Yet he was given the rank of Prime. How?"

"By Ultra Magnus himself. But that’s not a surprise," Shockwave tells him only for his antlers to start twitching nervously, "This isn’t true intel, but there was undisputed gossip that certain high up Autobots, including the Magnus, favored this wash-out more than the current protégé. Gossip also whispered that the Magnus couldn’t truly let go of his best soldier so he made sure of a way to keep track of him, by promoting him and giving him a crew."

_ That's not as wild as I assumed, especially with the rank change. _

"Though considering the ruthlessness the Autobots go through, especially Sentinel, I'm not surprised if he stabbed his friend in the back." The cyclops spits.

Raising an optic ridge at the resentful tone Shockwave had, Megatron watches as the spy seems to catches himself and his antlers bend back in embarrassment.

"He... He was the other cadet in the Archane Seven incident. I had to work with him and he was ... decidedly unpleasant in the worst way." The spy explains softly.

"Gossip is sometimes planted in truth. Continue."

"The most intriguing part, that does lend some credit to the gossip, is that four orbital cycles ago Ultra Magnus once again promoted Optimus Prime. He was moved up within the Primes' rank to a planetary commander after his visit here and capture of Starscream."

"Intriguing indeed."

As Shockwave reads ahead once more Megatron is left to wonder why this Prime wasn't given reinforcements until recently. He doesn't think the Autobots were stretched so thin before and he doubts it's because he doesn't still strike fear into their sparks. If that's the case then it must be because of the Prime. Yet this one seems to be very pragmatic, and from the meeting, disgustingly honest. During their fights he never shouted silly things like 'he'll be a hero' or 'be put down in the datalogs for this' so it raised the question of how much did the Elite Guard trust him. Especially if he's prized by Ultra Magnus.

"Peculiar."

Looking towards the screen Shockwave's antlers twitch again as he bows.

"My apologizes my liege. It's just – there’s seems to be an odd discrepancy in the Index. Which for all their downfalls the Autobots do keep immaculate records of what they deem important and essential to their way of life."

"What is it Shockwave?"

"There were a couple lines of coding embedded to hide this information. Firstly, it appears that the protoform licensed for Optimus Prime has a serial number for a much older than listed age on his transcripts. Secondly, there seems to be no other record before his enrollment into Autobot Boot Camp and the Academy.” 

Megatron levels a look as he waits for more, but when his spy says nothing more he prompts him, "Why is that important?"

"Autobots are usually brought on in near-adult forms, about third frames, by Vector Sigma and are given ID codes from their protoform serial code instead of a designation. They then give the newframes 10,000 stellar cycles to learn about their world, but also figure out their proficiency and hierarchy placement within their chosen frame field. After that they are then to only focus on the singular skill they perfected. From there their teachers give them their actual designations based on their traits or personality."

Frowning at the explanation Megatron mentally shakes off a chill at such a sterile view of life, "Such bizarre individuals utterly trapped in their own thoughts of self-righteousness."

"Truly. But following that, Optimus Prime was in the same Autobot Academy entrance unit as Sentinel Prime, who is Ultra Magnus' second. That means he should be of a similar batch age as that of the rest of the cadets at that time. He should be no more than 40 thousand stellar cycles old, yet his protoform is from a batch that is approximately 1.96 million stellar cycles older."

"So he is nearly 2 million stellar cycles old. Without the given information it would be likely to hypothesize that they used an older pod for a new spark. But with what I now know I doubt it," Taking a moment to recall the Prime in a new clarity Megatron comes to a surprising conclusion, "I’ve recently noticed a few attributes I wouldn't normally assign to Autobots when recalling our battles. The way he reacts, the fluidity of his movements, his optics... They're more intelligent, alluding to him already being older in a way that most of the Autobots are lacking... I think our curious little Prime was sparked."

It sounds outrageous to his own audials, but it was a high possibility that this Prime was a sparked creation. He could have also suggested a cold-construct clone, but the fire in his optics was telling. Even at her most angry or annoyed Slipstream couldn’t do more than a hard apathetic glare.

_ No, this is the only other possibility. _

Shockwave stares back in awe at the thought, "But how could he have survived on Cybertron that long?" 

"Yes, a mystery. Somehow, someone raised a sparkling in a post-war Cybertron," Pondering this conundrum further Megatron leans back in his chair, "Is there anything else to report?"

With a nod the spy continues, "His medical information is impenetrable by external means, which means I can't validate your hypothesis, my liege. I would need to be on Cybertron at the Central Infirmary to do so. Though there is good news. Someone with Council clearance had barred the outside from viewing those particular pieces of information, but I was able to find a way around it." Shockwave says, preening ever so slightly.

"Do you know who?"

"Not as of yet. I will have to carefully shift through the coding, but I should have an idea in a few megacycles, my liege."

* * *

* * *

It had taken Shockwave an extra two solar cycles, but now he was taking in the image of Alpha Trion and Megatron was stumped by this reveal.

The ancient mech was not an enemy, but neither was a true ally. Before the Resignation Act, he and Senator Mirage were vocal critics of Ultra Magnus' more repressive decrees, but sometime after it was put into affect Alpha Trion stepped away and sequester himself in his Hall of Records, seemingly ignoring the rest of the galaxy and its problems. Though even before that no one knew much of the secretive mech.

There were of course rumors, but nothing was set in Cyberium. Some suggested he was part Warframe and that is why he didn't support the Registration, but his slight form dismissed that idea. Others whispered maybe he was a descendant of the early Aerials with his downturn cape that looked like folded wings. The rest said he had to be one of the first Cybertronians to evolve a root forms. Regardless of all the hearsay, Megatron now begins to wonder more about the elusive mech as he turns his gaze to the serious visage of the Prime staring back at him.

"Just what are you?"

Megatron had forgotten about the Autobot's odd level of strength, like when he physically slammed him through the haul of their Supreme or when he tried to pull Starscream's head from him. With his medical records out of reach, he could only speculate.

"And what does Alpha Trion have planned with you?"

_ ** THUNK! ** _

Pausing his queries, Megatron listens to see if the noise will happen again.

_ ** THUNK! ** _

Hearing the faint punch again from down the hall he surmised someone was terribly upset. Stepping away from the screens Megatron makes his way down to Blackaranchia's lab to see the small femme land another punch next to the previous two fist marks in the wall before screeching.

"Problems?" He asks simply when she finishes and begins to vent heavily.

"Nothing punching a wall won't fix." She huffs.

Blackarachnia was always casual in her bitterness and he knew it wasn't directed towards him to be disrespectful so he allowed.

"Damn ninjas hightailed it with my test subject and I only found out _this morning_!" She yells at the Dinobot with the wings and it cowers in fear until he was hidden in the shadows of the darkened hall, "And I can't risk snatching him now so I'll have to try with other test subjects which... Well let's say, I know there will be limited success."

"Hmm, well your experiments come second to the Cause and there is need of you again."

Composting herself she turns her sharp grin to him, "Alright. Tell me, Lord Megatron, what seems to ale you?"

"You know of the problem that has been attacking the Autobots' Commonwealth as well as the Empire. They seem keen on expanding over any robotic worlds on our side of the galaxy. Tentatively there's been a truce purposed by the Autobots to make sure Cybertron is not overrun with an infestation. It is something that I have no time to clean up once I take over, so I have decided that we will take the Autobots' plead, but use it to our advantage."

Giving her time to digest that Megatron continues with his true reason for speaking to her, "When we do finally leave this Pit-cursed rock I need you there because I do not want an Autobot medic working on me when the inevitable battle in space happens before our destination."

"Don't say that, you'll jinx it," Blackarachnia smirks.

Unfamiliar with the saying he simply raises an optic ridge at her, which has her clicking her glossa and rolling her optics.

"Human saying."

"How long will it take you to collect your data?" Changing the topic as he looks around the wide lab, one of the few rooms in the base without a Decepticon-shaped hole through it.

Resting her servos on her hips, Blackarachnia taps out a pattern as she does her mental calculations, "Fast? Four megacycles. Properly, with some help? Two solar cycles at best." She decides.

Doing his own calculations, he nods at her offer, "Than have three. I predict long explanations to my generals."

All of Blackarachnia's four optics widen in surprise before she's bowing, "... Thank you, my lord."

"I shall leave you to it." Turning his back on the femme he makes his way back to his office of sorts to call up his generals and explain his decision and true plans. 

"So I know you're good at evading and I’ve heard some things from Bumblebee, but that doesn’t mean you’re the best," Ratchet watches Optimus tells their 'newest' member in a stern tone, "I just want to test you on some drills. You'll run an obstacle course and the others will try to stop you. How you react will tell me where you’re at and what can be improved. If you're going to spend some time with us I want to make sure you can take care of yourself and others. Is that alright?" He asks in a kinder tone.

Just a solar cycle after Wasp's capture and Optimus had him out at their training course like the tender-spark mech he was. The course was an old steel mill on the outskirt of the city along the Detroit River and perfect for the mayhem that usually came with practicing new battle plans. It was a little something devised by the kid when they first landed to keep up their skills and to build up their teamwork. Actually, building the course was team-building in its own way and in the past orbital cycles was used at least once an Earth week since the moment Lugnut and Blitzwing showed. 

"Uhh... Wasp okay with that." The younger bot says, though he seems more confused than anything.

"Good. Once I sound the klaxon you'll have eight cycles to complete the course." And nodding to Bumblebee the other shows Wasp where the start was. 

Turning around, Optimus walks off to the video hub as everyone else wanders into the mill to take up their hiding spots, except for the twins. Being too excitable Optimus had them sitting this one out and Ratchet couldn't agree more. They didn't need to scare an already skittish bot anymore than he already was. Now those two were sitting on top of a dilapidated blast furnace, babbling away to themselves about what they think will happen. 

Ratchet takes a few steps towards the foundry where he's supposed to hide out at, but his pedes take him to the video hub instead. And honestly, it's a better choice and something long overdue. He finds his Prime watching the screens and playing with the steel wire he kept subspaced, something Ratchet had seen him doing a lot more of after he blew up at him on the _Steelhaven_.

Clearing his intake, Optimus freezes and his shoulders tighten up like he was waiting to be reprimanded. If Ratchet did feel awful before he felt like the sludge of the planet for his presence causing that reaction. But he was here to fix it and that's what he's going to do, once he figures out what to say. He hopes it will just come to him.

"So you're having him run the Gauntlet. Why?" He asks, hoping the neutral topic will be a good starting point.

"As I am the commander of the planet, I think it is appropriate to assess his skills while here on Earth," He answers stiffly, sounding more robotic then Soundwave, "He has been in numerous encounters that call for him to fight and none in a safe environment. I want him to feel comfortable around us because I can see he's still wary. He did agree to this Ratchet, so I'm not going against his will. And trying to be a leader I should do my best to be more welcoming and —"

"Optimus! Kid. Stop."

He does, but Ratchet can already see some of the damage is already done. His plating along his backstructs looks like it would buckle if held any tighter and he can pick up the sharp smell of Energon. Optimus must have pulled the wire too tight in some places along his digits and accidentally sliced his servos along his joints. Walking over, Ratchet can see he was corrected, but thankfully there were only four cuts. Holding his servo out, Optimus hesitates briefly before unwinding his digits and placing the Energon stained wire in his subspace again and placing his servos in Ratchet's.

Placing his other servo over top of Optimus' gets him to finally look at him, but only for a nanoklik before his optics look down in shame.

_ That won't do. _

"Prime. You don’t need to defend yourself. Especially from me."

"Ratchet —"

"No. Let me... Let me say my piece." And he goes silent, his field tentatively hopeful.

Collecting his thoughts, Ratchet tends to his Prime's wounds with an antibiotic and nanites spray, "I’m sorry Prime. I-I just am. I blew up and accused you and made it sound like you were a traitor. You're supposed to be able to come to me and talk about whatever you need. And the fact was... the fact was that I wasn't there for you. You’re just working with the lot we’ve all got and I had no right to act like I did, plain and simple. Can you forgive me, kid?"

During his apology, Optimus had relaxed and looked a bit brighter than he had in the past decacycle, which were good signs in his datapads.

Passing him his other servo Optimus nods, "Thank you Ratchet. And yes, I accept your apology," His dermas quirking up barely a nanometer, "And so that doesn't happen again I'll try not to talk about it unless you want to know or it's absolutely needed."

"Thanks, Prime, but I'll be fine. We all need to be in the loop and I doubt anything else can surprise me. We can talk more after the training drill." Ratchet offers, giving Optimus a comforting pat and a friendly smile.

"I'd... I'd like that." He says shyly.

"Good. I would too kid. Now if you excuse me I have some young punk to whip into shape." Ratchet tells him with a confident smirk and that gets a smile from Optimus that reaches his optics.

Knowing the kid for a good while, the times that type of smile had happened were few and far between. Though since they had been on Earth they seem to be growing in frequency. Hopefully, sometime in the future, they would be a regular occurrence. 

"So from what I could see is that you're very capable with offensive attacks, mostly dodging and finding your higher ground. Defense wouldn't be your go-to plan of attack, but we should work on it in case you meet someone around your size that knows how to get in close with their attacks. When you're confident enough we can combine them so you don’t have to stop and transition." Optimus tells Wasp brightly.

He was very impressed with his skills. When the minibot wasn't driving around all wild he was very focused, kind of like Prowl in some regard. But instead of looking excited Wasp looks up at him with wide perplexed optics.

"Wasp... Did good?" He asks quietly.

Doing his best to smile so he didn't frown, Optimus places a servo on his shoulder, "Yes, I'm impressed. You did a good job Wasp. What would you like to do first?"

"Wasp decided?" He asks sounding incredulously at the choice.

He didn’t realize he was overwhelming the younger bot with the decision, but now Optimus understood why Alpha Trion had such a dislike for the Stockades.

"If you don't want to you can sit out and watch the others train. You could get some ideas that way." He suggests lightly.

Waiting patiently, Wasp fidgets as he looks around the others before saying softly, "Wasp wants to... Wasp would like to try training in fighting."

"Okay. Jazz and Prowl can help you with that." Optimus tells him, waving the two ninjas over.

As Wasp was led off to the cold open-hearth furnace, with Bumblebee tagging along, Optimus has his attention grabbed by a different source.

“Optimus Prime sir! Optimus Prime sir!”

Turning to the twins as they land he is hit with a cloud of debris. Coughing and waving away the dust and dirt they kicked up he can just make out their giddy expressions.

“Alright you two you can give it a go, but I doubt it will be that much of a challenge.” He chuckles at their enthusiasm as Jetstorm uses a small amount of his wind power to blow off the rest of the dust.

“We do not mind sir!” Jetfire chirps, grinning brightly.

"It is fun to have fun!” Jetstorm chimes, bouncing on his pedes.

“Jazz sir says it helpful to be loose.” Jetfire takes over again and he demonstrates the statement by wiggling about.

“Loose like my brother’s transistors."

"Or my brother’s T-cog.”

Smiling gently at their actions Optimus shakes his helm before getting their attention.

“Okay, you two. Jetfire. Jetstorm. Fall in,” And with them standing at attention their smiles somehow widen further, “I’m going to move certain sections that Prowl uses for acrobatics so you can fly _and _climb around the piping. It’s not much, but I expect interesting results.”

“Sir! Yes, sir! Optimus Prime, sir!” They shout before almost bouncing over to the starting line.

Everything seems to be going fine as the Twins moved seamlessly from flying to running, and on occasion walking, along the beams and pipes that were built to span the length between buildings. Glancing over to the other screens focused on the open-hearth he sees Wasp learning how to fall from Prowl. Looking over to another set of screens he watches the ore docks and sees Bulkhead lifting some of their Earth-made weights with Ratchet spotting him.

** _S_****_NAP! _ **

“NO! Brother!”

Attention immediately on the main screen Optimus frantically scans for the twins and coming up empty shuts down the course, calls Ratchet and drives off the twins' location, sirens blaring. Reaching them he slams on his breaks and transforms, jogging the last few steps towards the twins, who were kneeling and hugging each other tightly.

Approaching them cautiously he reaches out to Jetfire, who was shaking uncontrollably in his brother’s arms, "Jetfire. Are you okay?"

Placing his servo on Jetfire's shoulder, they look up together at him before to each other silently. Every action slow and measured, the polar opposite of everything they were. Looking back to him hesitantly they seem smaller and even younger than before.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

Optimus knew something had rattled them, he could see the same look on them that he saw on Ratchet after his fight with Lockdown. At the twins’ hapless shrugs and deepening frowns Optimus decides its best to leave it alone for now.

“Okay. If you don't want to tell me now we can talk —" 

"Optimus!"

The distance roar of an angry engine became clear and turning around he sees Sentinel weaving over at high speeds, breaking just in enough time to not mow him over.

"Jetfire! Jetstorm! What was that!? Jetfire! You had more than enough space to correct that fall. And Jetstorm! Don’t go after a bot if they don’t try to save themselves. It will make them impossible to save." Sentinel berates them, not even stopping as he transforms.

"Sentinel its just a practice,” Optimus tries to soothe the other mech, “It's okay if they mess up here, that way we can correct their mistakes."

“Stay out of it Optimus,” He says through gritted denta, “Don’t concern yourself with my soldiers.”

Before anything else is said the sound of other emergency vehicles draws closer. While his team stops a couple of meters away, Ratchet drives pass them straight to the twins.

“Jazz! How could you have let this happen?” Sentinel asks, turning his fury elsewhere, “And on top of that, why are you all even here?”

"Real-life experience SP. A simulator can’t always cut the mesh. And besides, cut them some slack. They're just younglings," Jazz defends them, "These things are bound to happen. Should be thrilled they didn't take out a chunk of plating on the landing."

“Won’t have to worry about that,” Ratchet comments, “Their Decepticon coding has made it that their plating is twice as tough as Autobot’s, but I can tell not as tough as a true Decepticon. Must be handy.”

"See the medic agrees with me.”

“Don’t take my words out of context.” Ratchet says lowly with a frighten glower that has even Optimus taking a step back.

Stumbling back, Sentinel tries to regain control of the conversation, “Ahem – Well – Yes – I just think that... That if I did ‘cut them some slack’ it would be coddling them. Which I don't do because they need to be ready for everything. And they're under my command and _I _should be the only one training them. _And_ it should be by someone who has actual experience.”

"You mean like fighting Decepticons." Optimus comments.

"I _meant _like being a drill sergeant. Pushing new recruits to be they're best in the field." Sentinel seethes, getting up in his space so his annoyed field was battering his.

"I've been training my team and they seem to be doing just fine in the field. Even took down a Decepticon or two." And Optimus doesn’t hold down the pride he has for his team, letting it radiate off him in waves. The sour look on Sentinel’s face confirms it and brightens his day.

"Jetfire! Jetstorm! Fall in!” Sentinel yells at the twins, then turns his glare to the Cyber-ninjas, “Jazz you too."

With a frown, Jazz gives Prowl a pat on his shoulder pauldron and transforms. Looking to the twins, Optimus sees them staring blankly at him before putting on faint smiles as they transform and fly off. Sentinel takes off after them, bulldozing his way back out the way he came with Jazz following at a safe distance.

Watching them go Optimus’ thoughts go back to the twins' terrorized looks. He was going to have to review the video and see —

"AAHHH!" 

It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck him and his spark had sputtered to a stop. Frighteningly something he had been through before. But this time it was completely different. The surge was so great Optimus didn't even realize his knees had buckled until his HUD had cleared of warnings and he saw multiple pedes in his view.

"Optimus! What's wrong?" Prowl asks, kneeling by him.

As the pulse hits again, gentler this time, Optimus raises his servo over his chassis.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong."

_ Actually, everything is great! _

As Bulkhead helps him up he feels the staticky tingle of Ratchet's scans, but is too ecstatic to brush off the cursory scan or the smile that was hurting his faceplates.

"Uh, Prime? You're smiling pretty big there," Bulkhead says looking vaguely unsure of what to do next.

"I didn't even know you could do that," Bumblebee says sounding in awe.

"He's right. He's fine," Ratchet snaps before shooing them away, "Now stop crowding him." 

"You sure Bossbot?" Bumblebee asks.

"I'm fine," He tells them, but at their looks of disbelief he tries to tamper down his emotions and look more neutral, "Really guys, I am fine. But let's call it a day. I think we could all use an easy day."

He waits for them to transform, listening idly as Bumblebee goads Wasp into a race back to the plant and they speed off with the Bulkhead's worrying voice close behind and Prowl following closer to handle or stop any accidents or damages. Once he's alone Optimus can't help breaking out into a grateful smile again, turning to Ratchet to hear what he already knows.

"Your spark wavelengths are parallel again. And they're strong." He tells him softly.

"I know," And at that, another pulse of joy, warmth, and love flows over the bond, "I know."

* * *

Servos deep in one side of Omega Supreme's side boosters and Optimus finally finds himself at peace this week.

The calm monotony of crimping or replacing the giant's internal wiring really let his mind drift aimlessly for the first time in decacycles. Actually, Optimus is 70% sure that's why Ratchet sent him out here alone, for his peace of mind. Even though he had a larger frame than Prowl and wasn't a medic like Ratchet he was still pretty nimble with his servos. That's why Ratchet let him 'work his magic', as the humans said, replacing the burned out electrical impulses that Megatron had damaged with his hit to Omega Supreme's leg. It was a random skill he learned from exposure to his Amica's more wild side, but it now doubled as a helpful tool to his team and calming his hectic thoughts about everything else going on. 

Beep beep! Beep beep!

Dropping his helm against Omega Supreme's open paneling, he gently bangs it against the shipformer's plating hoping something else hadn't happened with Bumblebee and Wasp. Since their reconciliation five solar cycles ago the two had gotten on better terms, which was good, but they had also taken to challenging each other in drastic ways. They hadn't done anything illegal - yet - but he would get an audio sensor full from Captain Fanzone and it would lead to him apologizing to Mayor Edsel and Miss Adrias again. If so, it would be the eighth time in three days.

Beep beep! Beep beep!

Sighing, Optimus transfers the wires he's working with to his left servo to answer his comm.

|| Optimus Prime here. Go ahead. ||

|| Hello Autobot. ||

|| My name is Optimus Prime! ||

He didn't need to shout. Not really. But Megatron had a way of making his engine rev in irrational anger. As the remnants of the shout echo off the plating beneath his pedes starts to shake slightly.

"OPTIMUS PRIME? IS EVERYTHING WELL?" Omega Supreme asks, sounding very sleepy.

Feeling guilty for waking the sleeping giant he gives the booster a gentle pat, "Yeah - Yes, I'm fine. Sorry for waking you up, it's just that someone thinks they're funny."

"ALRIGHT. I WILL REST. RATCHET SAYS IT WILL BE GOOD FOR ME." 

And Optimus can feel the plating beneath him settle as Omega Supreme powers down and leaves Optimus in awe of his presence again. So powerful, yet so kind.

|| I have been told I have an excellent sense of humor. ||

Megatron snarks and Optimus frowns as he can clearly imagine him smirking while saying that. And being the leader of ruthless bots and having a fusion cannon would make anyone say he had a sense of humor.

|| More like a dark one. ||

Apparently it's funny enough that Optimus hears a amused huff in his audials and it has him rolling his optics, only to realize who he was talking to and what it could mean.

|| But I'm sure you weren't contacting me to talk about jokes... I hope the treaty proposal wasn't a joke either. ||

||Though it sound very much like one, no. I am contacting you to relay that the Decepticon forces will _temporarily_ align with the Autobots for the destruction of the Qidried. If a true treaty is reached before we wiped them from the universe then we will have no quarrel afterwards. ||

Optimus heard the words, but he just couldn't believe it.

_It worked. It really worked!_

As the phrase continued to tumble around in his processor Optimus found himself speechless as hope, for the first time in a while, bloomed in his spark.

|| Autobot? ||

|| I – Thank you. You've saved billions of lives. ||

||Hmph. Contact me after you confer with your Magnus. I would like to leave this rock as soon as possible. ||

Megatron grumbles as he sends over his own commlink code.

|| And Autobot... ||

Listening closely, it was almost sounds like Megatron was talking directly into his audial.

|| Don’t make me wait. I do abhor it. ||

Megatron whispers before cutting the line and leaving a surge gently arching over Optimus' audial and down his backstructs at the odd level of intimacy and the sudden change in tone.

Having listened to some of Megatron's speeches at the Academy and when he was researching at the Hall, Optimus knew he shouldn't have been caught off guard like that. But it was different when _that voice_ was directed specifically at him and not a simple recording. It made his internal temperature rise at the mere thought that was said to him that way. Suddenly, Optimus feels like the impressionable Acadmeybot he used to be that found Megatron somewhat pleasing to the optics... and the audials...... and the processor.

Dropping his head onto Omega Suprerme's plating with a groan Optimus can't help but think,

_Uggh... That's going to mess with me, isn't it? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So two things:  
The Index is a database with all the info. All medical, academic, and identification files for each member of the population in the Commonwealth is in that database.
> 
> Secondly, timelines in Transformers series are 'meh' at best with exact dates. It's not really stated when Optimus gets his team or how long after that they met Prowl except to say it all happened a thousand years ago. So based on the official timeline and flashbacks in season 3 I'm assuming that everything was close in timing, meaning that the timeframe that Bumblebee mentions for Wasp would be about a thousand years too. Which is more then enough time for a Transformer to go crazy.  
As for the fic's timeline, the moment from Transwarped to Megatron contacting Optimus about the alliance has been one Earth month and and two weeks.


	6. (“Launch”);

"While this is the news we hoped for, I am still cautious about the situation." Ultra Magnus tells them solemnly.

"Understandable sir." Optimus answers.

A couple cycles ago Optimus had commed all of them saying it was urgent that they meet at the base. When Ratchet pressed him for what was so important Optimus had all but whispered 'He wants a treaty' and signed off, but not before Ratchet heard him rev his engines, trying to get to the plant faster. 

"But personal opinion aside, this can work and we must make this work for the Commonwealth's survival," Turning his focus to Sentinel, Magnus goes on, "I want you and Optimus Prime to work together on this. Listen to what Megatron has to say, but only make the concessions that would be in the best interest for the Commonwealth. We need to get the Decepticons to the table if we have any hope of stopping another war on a familiar, but still powerful, front."

Even if Ratchet was still sorely, and painfully, against this plan he understood their position and was only a bit thankful that Optimus' idea work.

Ratchet knew what the Decepticons could do, had seen it all, but for all that energy and force to be focused on a completely different – and actually hostile – entity meant it was bound to go in their favor.

The tricky thing was keeping everyone tolerant of each other while creating a treaty both sides would accept. Even though Megatron said he would sit down and talk didn't amount to bolt scraps. That mech was more cunning then most and had such a silver glossa that he had tons of bots following in his ways blindly. The only advantage they had was that Optimus was immune to Megatron's charms because he saw the true monster during their battles.

But if Megatron ever found out about Optimus... the kid could be in serious trouble. And it wouldn't be from the Decepticons.

"We'll do our best sir," Sentinel says, saluting Ultra Magnus.

"I know you will. Both of you. High command will start to prepare an entry plan for both the _Steelhaven_ and Omega Supreme. I will try to have your approach together, but with the current state of our forces it will likely be separate. Be ready at a moments notice." Ultra Magnus warns them before signing off with a nod.

The moment the screen goes black Sentinel turns on Optimus and pokes him in the chassis, "This is going to blow back in your face and I can't wait to tell you 'I told you so'. Elite Guard!" The smug bastard shouts in Optimus' face, "Fall in!"

Once that pompous chin leaves Ratchet turns to the ragtag team of younglings and clears his throat loudly.

"That was all well and good, though personally I still think this is going to be a mess, I’m not going to let us go in without a little kickback." Ratchet tells them, standing up and walking over to Bumblebee.

Before the young bot could speed off he grabs his arm and accesses his medical readings.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

Instead of answering him Ratchet goes through unlocking and upgrading the stingers’ code to the highest battle grade charge with a speed that he didn't still think he had. 

_Heh. Still got it._

Ratchet thinks smugly as he steps back and goes over to Bulkhead, "You're gonna need all the help you can get with what's coming next kid."

Bumblebee changes his servos over and without him even doing anything they begin to spark with energy. His blank stare turns into a wide grin as he starts vibrating in excitement.

"Well how come you didn't do this before?" Bumblebee asks as he starts powering up and powering down the stingers, the lights that worked in the plant fizzing in and out as he does.

"Because battle grade stingers are for combat bots only." Optimus chides him and Ratchet just rolls his optics.

"What are you gonna do? Arrest me?" He jokes and watches as Optimus attempts to fight a small smile pulling at his dermas.

"I technically have the authority," He points out lightly, his battle with the smile lost, "But no. After what you've all been through I think you've earned them." 

And as Ratchet upgrades Bulkhead's wrecking balls he was close enough to feel the tiny wisps of pride and happiness coming off of Optimus' field. It had been a long while since the field had been filled with anything but sharp spikes of anxiety. His Amica opening the bond again had helped, but this good news had added to it as well.

_Good. You need to let yourself relax._

Taking a step back from Bulkhead he nods to the gentle giant, "Go ahead. Try them out." 

He changes his servo to his wrecking ball and stares at like he's waiting for something. Ratchet can see the moment the code flashes across Bulkhead's HUD as his optics go cross-eyed as he reads about the upgrade. Then, in an instance, his wrecking ball grows sharpen energon spikes and Bulkhead jumps back in fright, shaking the base.

"Oh! Uh ...I didn’t know it could do that." He says in wonder.

"You can make them as sharp or as dull as you want. You can also turn them off completely and keep them like before," Ratchet tells Bulkhead as he begins playing with the sizes.

Turning to Wasp, the mini-bot fixes him with a wary stare before he starts to shuffles over, only to stop halfway. Looking at everyone else and getting nods and encouraging smiles for him to continued Wasp moves forward again. Ratchet waits for him to be within arm's length before reaching out slowly, knowing that Wasp was still cautious around him. Finishing with the same speed he used for Bumblebee, Ratchet stands back with Prowl and Optimus and watches as all the young bots test out their new powers.

Newer stronger powers.

Powers that were glitching out some of their machines right now.

This was probably a mistake in the short-run, but it's too late now. And besides, it’s the long-run that mattered the most.

"Congrats kids. You're going to see some true action now." He tells them gravely.

"And what do you call the last stellar cycle?!" Bumblebee asks, field full of indignation.

"Practice," Ratchet snaps in a clipped tone, "Those were battles..."

And the memories of all the fighting, betrayal, and sparkbreak well up in him. Pausing to collect himself he pushes back all the thoughts that surface whenever he thought about these words.

"This is war."

Venting deeply, Prowl appreciates the city around him and the sensations of the night.

One of the last few nights he had on Earth before he and his team were whisked back into the endless quiet of space.

His focus drifts as his external sensors take in the scented atmosphere of fresh vegetation and worn metal, the brush of leaves on his plating, the whistling of the wind through the dilapidated buildings, and the sounds of trains rolling over their tracks. Everything about their small corner of Detroit that made it theirs.

"Hey Prowler."

Even though Prowl knew Jazz was nearby, he found he had come to enjoy when the taller ninja would sneak up behind him, whispering into his audials.

And the nickname was quite nice too.

Since he had stopped Swoop from flying off with Wasp, Jazz had been calling him 'Prowler' every so often. According to Jazz, he had disappear and reappeared so suddenly – in his words 'prowling' – across the rooftops of skyscrapers ready to pounce, thus making the nickname all up on his own. And while all nicknames annoyed him, this one coming from Jazz was quite the opposite. It left a pleasant feeling settling in the bottom of his spark chamber whenever he said it.

Hearing rustling, Prowl turns around and finds that Jazz had moved to a branch lower than the one he had been meditating on. Now he was hidden in the denser foliage of the tree, only his visor faintly visible in the darkness.

_He must be sneaking out of the ship to see me again._

And the thought simply tickles his spark.

Ever since the debacle with the Twins’ fall, Sentinel Prime had made it a standing order that his team couldn't meet with Optimus'. He seems to have forgotten he has a Cyber-ninja and an intelligence officer on his team.

"Hello Jazz. How are you?"

"Better now," He says with his usual easy grin, only for his faceplates to slowly turn serious, "You remember when you asked me like a decacycle or two back about bots' optics changin'?"

Prowl can't help the sharp jump of curiosity in his field at hearing that. Someone else might finally have some information to this mystery that Ratchet wasn't willing to indulge in.

"What have you found out?" He asks calmly, hoping that Jazz didn't pick up on his anticipation.

"So I didn't think about it, not really until I saw Wasp's optics. But back when I was training, yeah, I remember hearing some rumors about Yoketron havin' the Dojo take in some of the bitlets from deserters and the like during the War. And get this, other bots said nothing good could happen from it because some of them had changin' optics."

_Sparklings? How are they involved?_

When sparklings emerged they were treasured by their creators and entranced almost anybot they came in contact with. What could be so different about them that no one wanted to take them in? It wasn't like how it was on Cybertron presently.

Having left after Yoketron’s demise Prowl was not on Cybertron when the Reconstruction had started. Prowl had Jazz regale him about the changes their home had gone through in his absence, but what he learned left him speechless. Jazz told him how in trying to repopulate quickly, as Cybertron was too weak and fragile to handle a sparkling boom after the War, the decision was to turned all of the planet’s remaining resources to Vector Sigma and pre-made model shells to repopulate the Commonwealth and Cybertron as a whole. It was one of the first rulings carried out after the Tyrest Accords.

Essentially, Cybertron was rebuilt without sparklings.

Jazz had added in his opinion that he thought certain high-level bots took it a little too far and since then bonding for sparklings had stopped. It wasn't outlawed, but it was severely frown upon since it looked like the government couldn't provide for its denizens. And with an entirely new generation and subsequent others made over 2 million stellar cycles, proving that their homeworld and the Commonwealth were doing fine without self-created sparks, it was easy to see why the practice had fallen out of fashion.

In his opinion, Prowl thinks its a waste. He had found the time spent with Sari, training and watching over her, was very enlightening in many ways.

"What happened to them?" Prowl asks.

Frowning, Jazz shrugs helplessly, "Don't know. They came through, the few I saw, and I think they were passed off to older compatible units. Maybe even went to colonies when they were old enough, but I'm not sure."

It wasn't a break in the mystery like Prowl had hoped, but he did have a new lead. Now he knew that changing optics must have come from creators’ CNA. But this also added more confusion.

Firstly, all the creators Prowl ever encountered had blue optics and so did their sparklings.

Secondly, creators didn't exist right now.

And thirdly, Optimus was too young to have been protoformed any earlier.

He told the team himself that he had enrolled in the Autobot Academy at the same time as Sentinel and that's how they knew each other. So while receiving enlightening information, it only added another layer to an already disorganize mystery.

"Thank you for the information Jazz." He tells him softly because it was something.

This development left Prowl displeased that his search was stalled again, but taking in a calming vent of atmosphere he centers himself. He was going to have to mediate longer than he planned to settle himself, but looking to Jazz again Prowl feels his dermas lift lightly. He didn't need mediate alone if he didn't want to.

"Jazz? If you can spare the time," And slipping down to the branch parallel to Jazz's roost he smiles gently, "Would you like to stay and mediate with me?" 

Gone is the serious facade and the easygoing smirk returns, keeping Prowl's own small smile on his faceplates as well.

"I thought you'd never ask Prowler."

“The Earth Commander will be the one I converses with about the treaty and only him.” Megatron proclaims the moment he lands.

While communicating the finer details of their departure from this accursed planet, Optimus Prime told him that amnesty from the Accords would still be in affect for him and his Decepticons, suggesting that he use it and rely on the Autobots to leave Earth. Since Starscream crashed the Nemesis into the singular moon Megatron would need the Autobots' ship and working space bridge to regroup with his generals near Ijurn. He did not approve, but had little choice. Glaring at the ship that held the same bright colors as it’s commander, Megatron loathes to admit that the ship did seemed impressive. But looks could be deceiving.

“I don’t think so!”

Quirking an optic ridge at the shout, Megatron turns to see a mostly navy Autobot standing behind Optimus looking equal parts affronted and petrified.

_Sinestel Prime? _ _This is Ultra Magnus’ Second? He has certainly downgraded._

“What Sentinel means to say —”

“What I _mean_,” This other Prime stresses as he cuts off Optimus' attempt at diplomacy, “is that this is the most momentous event that has ever happened in recent Cybertronian history and it should be handled by someone with more backstructs and status. Not a washout.” He finishes his tirade, though he was still stands partially behind Optimus.

“And Ultra Magnus asked us to work together on this.” Optimus reminds him with a pointed look.

“Yeah that too.” The other Prime says dismissively as he waves a servo at Optimus.

Looking back to the ship, as this Prime didn’t deserve another glance of recognition, Megatron addresses this Sentinel Prime, “From my understanding, you are not the most proficient Autobot here out of a weak team.”

“Proficient!? I’m competent! And you’re only saying that because you had a spy! And one that didn’t like me,” He blustered and Megatron is hit by the steam pouring out the Autobot’s vents, “I should've known though, Longarm was always so weirdly quiet.”

Rolling his optics, not trying to dissect what that could mean, Megatron continues, “We are enemies, what do you expect? Regardless, my question remains. Why would I waste my time with you?”

"And really, why should he?” Comes a coying voice, “Honestly, I can't blame you my lord, Optimus always did have a way with words. That is, when he could speak up for himself."

Crawling out from the underside of the ship, half-hidden in shadows, Blackarachnia's optics glow and her mandibles snaps in a way Megatron had since deduced was a grin.

"Can't have all that studying go to waste can we?” She clicks at him.

"Thanks," Optimus answers dryly, his expression a mix between annoyance and fondness, "I always enjoy backhand compliments."

"Only the worse for you." She coos back at him before dropping from the hull, flipping in mid-air, and landing so she could crawl up to them.

"What — Optimus what is this?! You know a Decepticon?!" The other Prime shrieks as he steps fully behind Optimus once again, only this time with his shield out, "And you! I don't know what kinda weird organic horror you are, but whatever you are you must be glitched to think the dataplug is better than me!" He yells at her, and Megatron wonders if he can get away with at least maiming one more Autobot before he starts negotiations.

"Full of yourself as ever, eh Sentinel?" Blackarachnia asks coolly and the Prime rears back in shock.

Even Megatron takes a step back to watch this exchange unfold. He didn't know his science officer knew two Autobots, but anything he could gleam from the two most senior Autobots here would be useful later.

"You – You know me?" Sentinel Prime asks faintly.

And it was like a live-wire was plugged into Optimus Prime's backstructs as he stiffens and his face is filled with terror. But before he can speak Blackarachnia hisses at him.

"Pipe down Optimus!" She snaps before transforming and pointing between herself and the Magnus' Second, "This is between me and loverbot here."

"Wha— A robot? With an organic mode? Eww," The Prime complains like he was nothing more than a sparkling, "There is no way I would ever have anything to do with a mutated freak like you."

But she is not deter as she walks closer, Optimus relaxing his stance as the other Prime takes a more defensive one, "You were singing a very different tune back on Archna Seven when a Decepticon ship full of energon was on the line. Very unstable energon surrounded by spiders!" She shouts around Optimus and the mystique snaps.

Optimus drops his helm in shame, his visor cap hiding his optics and the other Prime staggers back, stunned, almost dropping his shield. His expression shifts between shock, pain, and relief before falling into confusion. The reaction has Megatron intrigued and he makes sure to file these connections away so he can demand a more coherent explanation from Blackarachnia later. The files Shockwave showed him only held so much information and he would take advantage of every circumstance he could.

"E-Elita One." Sentinel Prime whispers.

"It's Blackarachnia now Sentinel. Thanks to you and Optimus." She sneers as she punches Optimus' shoulder and the mech seems to curl in on himself even more.

"But I – I thought you went offline."

A bitter chuckle fills the silence as Blackarachnia's grin becomes sharper, "Well least you two manged to get your stories straight."

And the fear flees from Sentinel Prime as he rounds on Optimus in fury, grabbing and turning him around to face his fellow Prime, "You knew about this?" He growls.

Not lifting his helm Optimus says softly, "It was never the right time to say something."

"Yeah why ruin the surprise!" Sentinel Prime shouts as he throws his arms up in anger, "It was your idea to leave her behind and now look what happened!"

Turning to the femme, Sentinel Prime adopts an expression of innocence, "You know I wanted to go back. But Ultra Magnus – he won't let us go back for your shell. But this," And as quick as his expression showed a level of moral concern it twisted into one of repulsion, "But I never knew this – It's unspeakable – How do you live like this? Its disgusting." He spits, his dermas curling. 

Megatron knew Autobots feared differences, but this response magnified all the thoughts he ever had about Autobots and their foolhardy ideology that everyone was apart of their ideal 'machine'. Everyone was welcomed, unless they were different. 

"Sentinel." Optimus gasps as he finally looks up.

"Okay. Okay. I get it it's bad," Blackarachnia chides as she steps back annoyance, "But it's not that bad, alright."

"No. Its worst," Sentinel Prime says lowly, "You should have gone offline."

"Sentinel!" Optimus shouts as he rears back from his fellow Prime in horror.

Stepping forward, Megatron looms over the trio and lashing out with his EM field effectively ends the encounter. The brief, but dangerous spike in his field was to lets this Autobot know he was not invulnerable behind his words. Autobots always felt like they were stronger when they used crass words, but it only showed their true cowardliness.

"Insulting ones potential allies, especially with a faction that is your key to victory, is rarely a sound strategy," He rumbles, "I suggest thinking first, if that is possible for you, before vocalizing your baseless opinions."

They all freeze, Optimus and Blackarachnia looking towards him perplexed, but its Sentinel Prime that looks up at him in the pure terror that Megatron enjoyed eliciting. But before he could do more he hears the rest of his warriors flying low. With a thunderous roar the rest of his Decepticons land behind him and he's sure they all make a frightening image, even if some are carrying lab and medical equipment.

"If were done here, I have sensitive items to unload." Blackarachnia sneers, stepping behind Megatron and into his shadow.

Stepping in front of the frozen Sentinel Prime, Optimus speaks up, "The science labs are on the third deck."

"You heard the mech! Chop! Chop! I have things to do." She shouts and ushers his Decepticons into the ship. 

Once they disappear in a rowdy ensemble of groans, complaints, and teasing, Sentinel Prime turns to another glare on Optimus before saying, "I should go and make sure that they don't break anything — From the security room, of course." He amends quickly when Optimus' looks to him in surprise from the declaration.

Quickly escaping into the ship, Megatron is left with his point of contact. 

"I do hate to repeat myself, but I will not tolerate speaking to that imbecile at all," He turns to the solemn Autobot as his field sparks with stress, "That will be the first part of the deal we will make."

"Do you want it written in glyphs or energon?" Optimus bites out as he turns around, walking off towards his own landing ship, Omega Supreme.

Raising an optic ridge at the sharp response Megatron vents deeply at the circus this was becoming. They hadn't even started the engines and he was sure _someone_ was not got to make it past the launch.

"This will be something." Megatron murmurs to himself as he easily walks into the Autobots' second most powerful ship.

Making his way through the ship, Megatron is underwhelm by the fact that he wasn't able to take the flagship by force, but he could still find out it's secrets. Oddly enough, as he walks to the bridge, he notices that the layout was that of what he could remembered from his fight in Omega Supreme. Though it was practical. If the design was efficient why change it.

Coming onto the bridge he sees the other Autobot that came with Optimus to their initial meeting standing up to Blitzwing. As he walks closer he hears the Triple Chnager explain that he could, in-fact, pilot this Autobot craft. 

"It iz little different zan a Doomsday-class warship, vhich I am quite proficient in handling — **JOU GOT A PROBLEM VITH IT!**" 

Instead of cowering the Autobot raises his servos in a placating way and offers a small smile, "Naw my mech. Co-pilot?"

The rage face is stupefied by the calm response and soon the click-whir of Blitzwing's faceplates changing fills the bridge as the spin goes almost non-stop before landing on the wild face. 

"_I already have two, now I have three! ~ HA-Ha-Ha-HAAA!_" Blitzwing crackles as he goes to take a seat, somehow, in the Autobot-sized chair in front of the screens on the right side of the bridge.

The Autobot is first at a lost for words, but manages to say, "...I'm going take that as a yes."

Sitting down in the Commander's chair – It was the closest thing to a throne here – Megatron gathers his thoughts about what would be the fastest route with their substantial envoy. It would need to be well-timed to reach their side of the galaxy in under an orbital cycle.

_ **WOOSH! ** _

Glancing back to see who had entered Megatron watches as Optimus walk in with his focus completely on the datapad he's working on. Not breaking his stride the little leader continues until he is standing at his right side, only then does he look up to take in the scene of Blitzwing and the visored Autobot talking and coordinating together, before going back to the pad. 

"Report." He orders as he settles back into the chair.

In his peripheral view, Megatron can see Optimus’ digits freeze over the screen as he straightens his posture, so much so that he could hear the younger mech's plating rattle in defiance. Turning his indifferent gaze to Optimus, the Prime meets his with a hard glare that isn't nearly as intimidating with his innocent blue optics. Holding the stare effortlessly Megatron grins victoriously as Optimus' dermas pull into a tight frown, but he does relent with a stubborn vent.

"Mechanically, we're a go," Optimus tells him dryly, but as he continues he takes on his usual professional tone, "All tachyon communications are in working order and Autobot High Command has been notified that we are preparing for liftoff. Once we’re off world you can contact your forces about our journey. Omega Supreme's new plasma dynamic thrusters and stabilizers are prepped, as is his newly enlarged cathode tubes for warp energy storage. They've also been outfitted to have the range expanded to encompass both ships. Personnel-wise, Ratchet and Blackarachnia are getting the Medbay in order before Ratchet goes back to help guide Omega Supreme through most of our journey. The Seekers are in a rest bay B with Lugnut. Bulkhead and Sari are in the engine room double checking that the transwarp relays are primed to safely ferry on Omega Supreme's warp path. And Prowl is keeping an optic on Jetfire, Jetstorm, Bumble—"

_ **WOOSH!** _

“Optimus!"

Slowly shuttering his optics Optimus looks back as Sentinel Prime stomps up to him, field flaring wildly that even Megatron can feel some of it at a distance.

"Your minibot is corrupting my trainees! And that felon is helping!"

"Video games don't corrupt, they’re for fun," Optimus tells him tiredly, "And Wasp was acquitted."

"With those inane sounds coming from it I don't know how anyone could not have their processor bur—"

Stalling mid-rant as he does a double take, the other Prime points an accusatory digit at him and looks the most serious Megatron had seen him yet, "What in the Great Xal do you think you are doing?” Sentinel Prime asks lowly and Optimus looks to the ceiling, clearly asking some higher power for strength.

“...Yes?” Megatron prompts.

“You’re sitting in _my_ chair.” Sentinel Prime hisses as if it was obvious.

“No I’m not," Megatron dismisses as he leans back in the pilfered chair, crossing his legs for added affect, "I’m sitting in the Commander’s chair because I am the highest ranking bot here. That is the protocol, is it not? Something you Autobots strive for if I remember correctly.” He grins, wide enough to show off his fangs.

"I'm the Commander of the ship," Sentinel Prime seethes, "Ultra Magnus gave me command of the ship."

"So."

"Optimus! Do you hear this?! Do something!" Sentinel Prime yells, his pauldrons plating rising up in display.

It almost makes Megatron laugh outright. What did this Prime expect Optimus to do to get him to listen?

"What I _hear_ is the incessant squeaking of a shred fly." Megatron comments plainly.

In an instant Megatron is hit in the faceplates by heavy puffs of heat and watches as faint wisps of steam come rolling off Sentinel Prime at his disregard. Meanwhile, Optimus has slightly turned his head away and held his datapad up to his dermas, but Megatron could still see the hint of the smile he was hiding.

“They're crushed so easily underpede,” He goes on to says as he looks directly to Optimus. He was not above pulling at the frayed wires between these two, “Wouldn't you agree?”

Pulling the datapad away from his dermas Optimus keeps his optics on the pad and answers, "I can't really say anything on the matter. I didn't hear anything."

The neutral sounding, but oh so passive insult, was a perfect response and Megatron's dermas actual quirk up into a small smirk at the composed Autobot.

"Yes. It must have been the whine of the engine." Megatron replies.

Sentinel Prime gapes at him as the heat rolls off him faster and hotter, building up to the point that he's squeaking and hissing. Composing himself enough Sentinel Prime rounds on his fellow Prime again, "Optimus, you traitor —"

"Is the ship ready for transwarp?" Megatron cuts him off, tiring quickly of this levity.

"Yes Lord Megatron," Blitzwing answers promptly, "Ze Autobot, Bulkhead, has stated that ze engines and all itz systems are primed."

"What too cool said," The visored Autobot adds as he spins around in his chair to face him, "Plan is to use the Space Bridge tower to split from Earth and have it jump us pass this system's second asteroid ring. From there its smooth cruising for a decacycle or so 'til we hit the first warp lane and then we'll use Omega's transwarp storage to hitch a ride on those currents. We'll sail pass that wild beta-class Elctrostorm near the edge of Plait and it will drop us out on the other side near Benzuli. But don't worry 'bout a thing, we'll be about four solar cycles out and we'll come across our final lane to continue onto our hook-up near Ijurn, which is another decacycle. It'll take us a third of an orbital cycle, but its safer to go in the opposite direction of the QPG then dealing with them on their home-turf too. You dig? Uh ....Sir?"

As a feared and respected leader Megatron knows he can never show weakens or confusion, but he had never heard someone talk with so much slang before and was at a lost. And what in the universe was the QPG? Had some new entity only show up in the 50 stellar cycles he was in a coma? Adding to his confusion a message pings on his HUD and his brow furrows when he sees it's from Optimus. Opening, it reads,

[[ Jazz is telling us everything is good and the QPG is the Quintesson Pan-Galactic Co-Prosperity Sphere.]]

Relieved that he did understand the core of what the Autobot was saying he answers the visored bot, "Excellent, tell _Professor Sumdac_ we're ready," Can't helping the snap at naming his absent-processor jailer.

"We're ready Professor." Optimus comms the human.

The ship shutters gently before the forward screens come on to show them rising and turning towards Sumdac Tower as the finished bridge hummed with its blue energy. Coming to hover in front of the building the Supreme comes up in front of them as the blue orb of energy extends and covers both ships before catapulting them back into the silent darkness of space.

* * *

Safely cruising, as it were, towards the first warp lane Megatron wanders about the ship, making it obvious he was checking around the craft, in hopes of drawing out the little Prime. And as he turns the corner he sees one of his potential exits cut off by the Autobot in question. Smirking at the effortlessness of his plan Megatron approaches slowly.

Unfolding his arms, Optimus walks closer as well, "Megatron."

"Autobot." Megatron replies and grins at the disappointed frown he receives in turn.

"If we want this to work then we need to talk about what can be given." Optimus tells him blandly.

"Oh and how do you propose we go about that?"

"Tell me what you need." He says in an obvious tone.

The ease in which the Autobot simply ask for what he and his warriors needed stuns Megatron momentarily. No one ever purely asked what they had wanted, always assuming it was something uncalled for and unattainable, never truly listening before disparaging their cries of injustice.

"Excuse me?"

"We can't discuss the finer point of want you want if you don’t tell me what you need." Optimus says again, but this time in a much kinder voice.

The sincerity to help could be felt just at the edge of the mech's field and though doubtful of the smaller bot’s request Megatron decides to take a chance, if only to have this charade of caring over with.

“Protoforms.”

“What?”

“The Decepticons require equal access to the Sonic Canyons for protomatter and to Tarn's factories for model shells and armor. We only have a few hundred protoforms and have limited numbers as it is. With this war upon us and our own personal stake in it I want access to them.” 

Surprise or indifference, Megatron expected, but the expression of soft delight from Optimus was, itself, a surprise.

"I think that's a great place to start," He says with a small warm smile, "And I’m very certain that I can get it arranged. There will be some red tape in getting the immense number of protoforms you'll need processed, but I know about some loopholes. The registration for the production of protomatter uses some language that isn’t in completely defined terms. We could use that to create a better deal for your Decepticons." Optimus outlines, almost beaming at the idea of the work ahead.

He was still skeptical, but it was not at all a bad idea, especially with using the Autobots' rule of law against them.

"You are quite deceptive when you wish to be," Megatron comments lightly and Optimus Prime's face clouds over at the compliment.

"When my opponents are double my height and triple my weight I have to put my strengths somewhere else." He replies quickly.

"What's this?" Smirking at the answer and defensiveness starting to weave through the Prime's field. Moving a step closer he asks, "No confidence in your ally?”

"I know you're up to something." Optimus fires back, staying rooted in place.

"Good. You're not as naïve as you seem."

"I don’t trust you, but I want this to work."

Without even knowing it the little Prime had left a perfect opening for Megatron to find out crucial information, and from the source itself no less.

"Then we have one more thing in common." He comments with an sly grin.

"One more – We have nothing in common." Optimus tells him tersely.

"Don’t we?" Megatron baits him.

Bending forward to study the Autobot, Optimus does the same to him, his optics growing more and more cold, but Megatron knows he’s curious now. So he waits patiently until Optimus can't handle the pressure of his own inquisitive nature anymore.

Optics narrowing, scrutinizing him, before he finally asks, "...What do you know?"

Closing the remaining distance between them Megatron leans directly next to Optimus’ audial fin, letting his voice ghost over the sensitive metal.

"I think you'd be surprised... Sparkling.” Megatron purrs against the finial.

Moving his helm back as his fin flutters, Optimus fixes him with a look of pure confusion.

“I’m not —" Then like on the bridge, Optimus freezes instantly, only this time horror takes over his expressive faceplates.

Staggering away, the disbelief and fear grows with each step until he backs himself into a wall, “H–How? How did you know?” He whispers, optics shuttering in panic.

"I do now," Megatron whispers back as he resumes his full height, smirking at the distress and anxiety pouring off the frame in front of him, "And it will be our little secret. I do look forward to our meetings now, Autobot."

And with that Megatron smoothly walks pass the petrified Autobot, already devising plans to exploit this secret. He knows Optimus is willing to get this treaty to work, but Megatron could never be too sure about other factors, mainly the whole of the Autobots. He knows Optimus Prime won't break easily, but that will be half the fun.

Strolling almost aimlessly through the ducts of the _Steelhaven_ Blackarachnia comes to another open vent and gently plants another the tiny mic by it. Waiting impatiently for it to turn green she thinks about how she rather be testing her new theory of using transwarp energy to try and reverse herself. Instead she's here. With a blink, the green comes on and with a quiet huff she continues on. She was only in this mess because she was smart enough not to get on Megatron's bad side and had 'eagerly' accepted the job of planting their spy deceives. Her being the smallest in and out of root mode definitely had something to do with it... And possibly being the least destructive Decepticon probably had a servo in it too.

Finally circling back to where she started on the second level Blackarachnia crawls down to the first, and thankfully, last level. Barely halfway through and she was beyond ready to get back to the lab before her machines miss her too much.

"—on't know? Prepared!"

"I told you. I didn't know how. No time was the right time."

Knowing that shout and pitiful response anywhere Blackarachnia finds her interest peaked. Why were her former friends hiding in the brig? Quietly walking forward to the nearest vent, right on top of them, she settles back on her legs and listens in.

"If not now, when!? You should have told me as soon as you knew instead of letting me make a fool of myself out there!" Sentinel complains as he paces back and forth in front of Optimus.

"You don't need any help with that," Optimus mutters back and she mentally smiles at the flabbergasted expression on Sentinel's face.

_Ooh. He must be in a really bad mood if he's being verbally snippy instead of making faces._

Picking his giant jaw off the floor, Sentinel tries to look like he has some level of prestige as he stands in front of Optimus, "We'll talk about your insubordination and backtalk later. Right now, I want to focus on – on that abomination!" He snaps and that familiar cold sensation she felt before settles in her spark again.

She should have known they were talking about her. It seems even the high and morally might Optimus wasn't above talking about her deformity, though it hurt to know it was true. She should leave, but Blackarachnia wanted to hear it with her own audials. Wanted to have the proof of what she knew.

"She's not," Optimus insisted, "She's a friend."

But Sentinel steam rolls over him like he didn't even speak, "And on top of that she'd Decepticon! You shouldn't have allowed this. The moment you knew you should have slagged her."

"Even if I should have I couldn't have and I won't. She's Elita." Optimus counters, folding his arms in defiance.

"Oh Optimus." She whispers to herself.

Even knowing that didn't douse her rage for him. He shouldn't have left her. But hearing this, as she did every time they clash, did leave Blackarachnia relieved. Just knowing, despite everything, that Optimus hadn't let the 'Incident' twist him like it did for her and obviously Sentinel made this warped reality she called life a bit more grounded. It may be naïve for Optimus to think that, but she knew it was just his overwhelming benevolence.

_He always was the kindest out of the three of us._

"Was Elita." Sentinel fires back.

"She still is. I know it. I've seen it." He tells him and with so much conviction it makes her scoff in disbelief just as Sentinel does the same.

With a roll of his optics Sentinel turns his back on Optimus - like he usually did when he wanted to end an argument - but Optimus steps around him, looking determined to make him listen.

"Look Sentinel, I'm sorry I never told you about Elita, but I didn't want to open up old wounds or add to the growing list of problems between us ... I never really apologize for making you leave her behind all those stellar cycles ago and for that I am sorry. I ... I never thought this could all happen." He apologizes. A whisper as he ducks his helm, likely hiding his optics from view.

Blackarachnia expects Sentinel to lash out, but he more or less deflates, resting his servos on his hips and looking away from Optimus.

".... Yeah? Well... I guess I'm sorry too. Sorry we ever went to that stupid planet in the first place," And his glare becomes marred with sadness, "But it's...its too late for apologizes now Optimus ... Too late for all of us."  
  
"Maybe, but you never know." Optimus tries, but it falls flat as Sentinel just shakes his helm and pushes pass him.

But there’s still a pang in her pulsing spark, not one of those nasty muscle pumps, like its frozen over again at the sound of hope in Optimus’ voice. That the possibility of her being allowed to —

_No! I’m stronger than this. Smarter than this. I am Blackarachnia and there’s no turning back._

She mentally berates herself.

Blackarachnia tries to ignore the conversation and trudges on with her duty, steeling herself, telling herself she wouldn't be weak to Optimus' brand of optimism. He made his choice and she's made hers and Blackarachnia intended to keep it that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fic Trivia!  
Compatible units is the Cybertronian term for families. I'm taking it from the basic term, computer family, which is a group of computers with the same designs, CPUs, and microprocessors making them compatible with each other. They're robots, it works.
> 
> As for the protoforms, I'm going to work on the assumption that some of the stasis pods were tiny stasis eggs like Sari's and were for sparklings. The rest were all tall like the ones shown in the episode Five Servos of Doom. And since it said in the almanac (somewhere) that Autobots can change models and we see Prowl try to save Yoketron by moving his spark into another protoform I'm saying they can have two modes of protoforms... That makes sense, right?


	7. (“Broadside”);

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday to me! (It's actually the 9th, just roll with it)  
But because this chapter was going to be close to my birthday I decided to gift y'all with a bit more drama and a side of fun today. And as you can tell from the title, there will be fighting. Like a lot of fighting, but it will be both fun and drama filled.  


Crossing one pede over the other, Prowl circles the mat mirroring Jazz. To the untrained optic they looked relaxed, but Prowl can see were Jazz is tense, ready to strike, mirroring him in prowess.

Slowing coming to a stop, Prowl watches to see what will be Jazz's next move and is surprised when he continues to take slow steps towards him. Against his training he does tense more than he should before back-springing out of the way of Jazz's swift forward attack. Landing on his pedes Prowl sees the other cyber-ninja stand up from swiping his leg out to catch him.

Cartwheeling forward, Prowl pushes off for a kick to the helm, but Jazz easily blocks it making a grab for him. Prowl expects as much and rolls away as soon as he touches the ground. Its clumsy for him, as he's still getting the hang of fighting in the armor, but with a forward flip soon as he is on his pedes he gets away. Turning to his opponent, Prowl finds Jazz closer than he anticipated and is quickly on guard blocking and only getting a few strikes in before Jazz goes to knee him. Stepping out of the way Prowl is immediately on the other end of blocking a quick succession of kicks from the other. The speed and force pushes Prowl back and he knows he only has a few mechanometers from a wall.

He had to grab Jazz's leg to stop or spin him, but his attempt is not quick enough.

Though where he failed to grab hold of Jazz his attempt had thrown his rhythm off and gives Prowl a chance to jump back and springboard off the wall. Flying over Jazz he lands right behind him and goes in for a kick of his own to Jazz's unprotected back.

But Jazz catches his pede without turning around and pulls him forward. Using his new weight against him, Prowl is briefly unbalanced, but that's all Jazz needs. Still facing away Jazz crouches and kicks out his other pede out from him forcing him to go down into the splits. 

Before Prowl can even fathom a useful way to use his lower position Jazz pivots and lunges forward. Quickly using his legs to trap his, Jazz then disarms Prowl of his shields and pins his bare wrists overhelm, boxing him in. 

Venting harshly at the sudden and brash movements Prowl tries to use it to test his ability to move, but he is thoroughly trapped. With a devious smirk, Jazz leans down and Prowl stills, unsure of what will happen next. His focus is solely on the other mech eliminating the distance that he jumps almost violently when all he gets is a tap to the middle of his chevron.

“So that’s best five out of seven. Do you yield?" Jazz asks with a cheeky smirk.

Fixing him with a look, "For now."

Smiling wider, Jazz gets up, "I can live with that," And holds a servo out for him to take.

Accepting the offered servo Prowl lets himself be pulled up, but Jazz must exercise too much force because Prowl finds himself chassis to chassis with Jazz. Looking up to Jazz in confusion he offers him an easy grin, but Prowl can feel the uncertainty buzzing in his field. The feeling of unsurety fills Prowl again and he has to look away, but his gaze falls to the side where their entwined servos still were. Turning away from it, has him looking back to Jazz and is still at a loss for what he should do.

Thankfully, Jazz opens his mouth to say something so Prowl can disregard this awkwardness between them.

Or he was going to.

There was no warning. One moment they're standing close and the next a heavy rumble shakes the room as Prowl falls forward surrounded by Jazz's arms. But Prowl doesn't land on his side like he assumed. The roughness of his cushion and the harsh rush of air onto his armor tells Prowl everything he needs to know and he quickly moves off of Jazz. Sitting back on his knees he looks over the other and is relieved that there are no dents, but that didn't mean anything.

"Jazz? Are you alright?" He asks quietly as he leans over the other ninja, checking to see if there was any damage to his helm.

"So I see you couldn't wait to take me down," Jazz replies softly.

With a sigh, Prowl can't help the small smile at the response, which has Jazz smiling, "Apparently."

"So, do you want to let me up or what," Jazz asks as he lazily gestures at their position, "Not that I'm complain' and all. View's pretty great," He adds with another one of his signature grins.

And the heat that falls over Prowl leaves him off balance. He hadn't even noticed that he was straddling Jazz until he pointed it out. He tries to get up quickly, but the room rattles again and Prowl has to lean forward to brace himself. But not on the floor, no on Jazz's midsection. And Jazz doesn't make it any better as he holds his hips to steady him.

The moment the shaking stops Prowl surges to his pedes and turns away, but not without reaching out a servo to Jazz. As he takes it Prowl pulls gently before letting go and stepping away.

"We should check to see what is causing this." He says stiffly, walking over to his shield guards that had skidded across the mat.

With them firmly back in place he makes his way to the doors. The rest of the trip to the bridge has Prowl leading Jazz as the ship shakes two more times before it stops all together, but Prowl keeps his helm resolutely forward and stays silent.

He wasn't sure what he felt for the other ninja, not entirety, and because of that he didn't want to ruin what they had. He was never the best with his emotions and they were always so muddled when it came to this, just enjoying someone's company.

Prowl had lost friends and ruined many relationships all because he never knew how to easily express himself because he never knew what he truly felt. Before the Dojo, snark and anger were easy, but anything softer than indifference was never right for who he was with. Coming off too cold, never knowing how to speak about his emotions, and always being easily embarrassed when his space was invaded left many mecha feeling bereft. Of course he could be friendly to those he liked, but it was never enough and Prowl didn't know how to fix his 'cold' exterior to be what they needed. He didn't want that to be the reason that Jazz distanced himself.

He didn't want that again.

* * *

Walking onto the bridge Prowl finds a scene he's starting to become accustomed to; Decepticons and Autobots in the same room with no destruction.

Slipstream was leaning back in the chair that Jazz usually occupied and Blitzwing was across from her at his own station. Sentinel Prime was sitting in the Commander's Chair – trying to sit there anytime Megatron was not on the bridge – reading a datapad. Bumblebee was also here, perched precariously on the railing surrounding the main control's chair so he could look over Slipstream's wings. She had even angled herself so he could look at what looked like a digi-system in her servos. And as a string of hushed curses reach his audio Prowl looks over to see Blitzwing was in possession of one as well.

They were midway through their journey, the second day of regular travel before another warp jump, but meanwhile they all seemed to have stumbled into a strained, but subtle alliance. Of course most of the occupants of the ship kept to themselves, but still, if Optimus wasn't always so caught up in working with Megatron he might have enough down time to see what he had suggested was working to a point. Even Prowl was starting to come around to the idea.

"So SP, where are we?" Jazz asks walking around Prowl, but still close enough to brush pass his armor and gently nudge the back of his servo, " 'Cause there aren't too many things that can rock this boat."

Trying to analyze whether or not that was intentional, he almost misses the Prime's answer.

"We're in the Thundera Asteroid Zone," He grunts before picking up another pad, "If _someone_ was paying attention we wouldn't have hit any of the rocks."

"I told you that maneuvering would be nil to impossible without blasting through," Slipstream says lowly, the only show of her annoyance was how her wings began to hike higher as she spoke, "but as this ship eats energon like a scraplet would devour a whole bot without stopping, there's nothing we can do."

As Prowl walks closer to the front, curious to see what had both Decepticons' interest, he can see Sentinel Prime pouting at her rebuke.

"What was your solution then Slipstream?" Prowl asks.

Turning briefly to give him a deadly grin she goes back to the system, "Since you asked nicely. Your medic said the Supreme could fire without tiring or draining his fuel so we establish a tractor link and are letting it and Lugnut take care of the asteroids."

"Lugnut? Taking ca—How?" Jazz asks in surprise, leaning forward to watch the screen intently to watch for Lugnut.

"POKE," Blitzwing growls as he furiously smashes some of the button on the system.

"Oh...Right."

"Yeah, so since Megs' bouncer and Omega got it covered we decided to kick back and play a game," Bumblebee adds kicking his legs and looking very proud of himself, "I found my digi-system in my old room during my last rotation over there and had Bulkhead and Sari scale them up so I could beat the Decepticons in another way." 

If Prowl wasn’t witnessing it right now he would never believe that Bumblebee persuaded any Decepticon into playing what was essentially a video game.

"Jou're not even playing," Blitzwing growls again through gritted dentea, "Und shouldn't be. Zis iz between me and her."

"But Slipstream's new to this. And on my honor as a 'video game master' it is my duty to help such a novice," Bumblebee says, which would be a nice sentiment, if it wasn't for his cocky grin, "Besides, you said you were good at this." He teases.

"I'm surprised jou know vhat that vord means." Blitzwing mutters instead.

"Yes, truly an honored titled," Slipstreams adds tonelessly before turning more towards the yellow bot, "So if I move the pyramid here?" 

"Yep," Popping the 'p', Bumblebee beams at his pupil, "You pick up fast."

Giving an affirmative hum she turns back. Taking a few more steps forward to see what game had the two so involved Prowl is confused by what he finds.

What he sees is them playing what looked like a simulation of stacking truncated pyramids into certain towering fashion. They were then moving a total of eight creations, varying in height, around a board. When certain lights on the board lit up it would add points or disintegrate the player's or their opponent's towers. They could make more, but Prowl wasn't sure if they were supposed to or not. And there seemed to be a pattern, but Prowl could not pick it up as the lights moved at random, sometimes at different speeds and in different shades.

"**HOW ARE JOU SO GOOD AT ZIS!**" Blitzwing shouts as he stands, hunched over like he was ready to launch himself at the minibot.

Prowl steps forward protectively, but Blitzwing somehow holds himself back, shaking in anger for a few more nanokliks before dropping heavily into his seat. Prowl would congratulate him at his self-control, if he couldn't see that the Triple Changer was teetering on the edge of his patience.

"I am a master at pysching bots out," Bumblebee boasts, "Not so easy with three faces giving way all your tells. Betcha' don't think I'm so dumb now!" He shouts, leaning further off the railing.

Before anyone could say any differently a loud squeak fills the room as Bumblebee's hold fails and he pitches forward, falling off his choice of seating. Prowl is too shocked to move, but Slipstream simply moves her wings up so he falls pass her and flat on his face. It's silent for only a nanoklik before Bumblebee is groaning into the floor.

With a satisfied smirk Blitzwing leans back in his own seat, "Jou have yet to change my opinion — _HA-Ha-Ha-ha! Ze little bug vent splat all over ze floor!_"

"Not... another... word." Comes the muffled complaint.

Unable to help himself for the second time today Prowl lets a slight smile show and it's accompanied by a short chuckle. And hearing a few more stifled laughs Prowl knows he isn't alone in finding this situation humorous. But as suddenly as they started two other noises cut through, one of triumph and the other of defeat.

"**SLAG IT ALL!**"

And the system goes flying towards Sentinel Prime. His only saving grace is Jazz's phenomenal speed and skills as he reaches out and snatches it out of the air before it impacts on the Prime's chin. Jazz flashes him a prideful little grin and Prowl almost returns it, his own way of complimenting him, but he catches himself and turns away. He didn’t want to start something he didn’t know how to follow through with.

"HA!" Bumblebee cheers as he jumps up from the ground looking completely unscathed from his tumble, even holding up a servo to Slipstream for a high-five.

Rolling her optics she returns it with a bored sigh, but it's enough to excite Bumblebee as he begins dancing at Blitzwing's apparent defeat. Shaking his helm at the silliness taking place on the bridge – of all places – Prowl turns to Sentinel Prime. As he does Jazz looks away and Prowl wants to be upset but expects nothing less. Focusing on Sentinel Prime he can see the Prime was still out of it enough at his close call that Prowl knows he'll answer his question without pulling ranking for no reason.

"Sentinel Prime? Do you know where Optimus is?"

He wanted Optimus to know that his idea was working. He could use some good news with how exhausted he look recently. But instead of an answer he is met with groans and looks of annoyance exchanged between the others and that answers Prowl's question before they do.

"They’re at it again." They sigh tiredly in unison. 

Gritting his dentea, Megatron mentally reminds himself that shooting the screen display above the middle of the table would be counterproductive.

Though it would be therapeutic. 

As of now he and Optimus had made a few but important agreements; protoforms ordering, establishing an outline for the joint government oversight for his Empire working in tandem with the Autobots' Council, a plan for reintegrating Decepticons into the economy and into the mostly deserted city states that joined his side during the War, and even made sure that a fair proportion of materials that will be doled out for reconstruction because they wished it or if anything was destroyed in the off case that the Qidried made planetfall.

All perfectly amicable and useful agreements, but in getting there Megatron had to deal with Optimus rejecting approximately 65% of his proposals. Yes, most were fodder to see if Optimus Prime was willing to compromise, but that didn't matter as the Autobot was willing. It was impressive to meet an Autobot that was a perfect amalgamation of what the Council touted that they were, but he was also equal parts aggravating as he refused to be pushed in anyway! And just remembering the last 'I am an Autobot' speech he gave was giving Megatron a helmache. 

It was fascinating that every word that Optimus spoke incited some feral emotion Megatron could barely get in a fight anymore. It was more annoying that recently, only during their battles, that it could caused the same rush, but now Megatron wasn't allow to use force.

As usual, their treaty meeting started with a intelligent discussion about laws and rules that Megatron wanted implemented on his section of Cybertron and that had lead to talks about punishments and imprisonments if something were to happen to an Autobot in his territories or a Decepticon in Autobot territories. It then led to the very specific talking point about the Decepticons in incarceration at Trypticon and then to war crimes and trials and how the Tyrest Accords was amnesty to all the Decepticons for exile so the Autobots should honor that and release them so they can go into this new treaty with fulfilling the actions of the last agreement.

"The amnesty was for free Decepticons, not ones captured or operating on their own," Optimus 'explains' to him.

"And to an Autobot there needs to be different levels of a problem so you can still express your 'superiority' over all and look as if you are being fair in some manner," Megatron rolls of his optics dismissively, having heard this before.

And from the bristling it seemed he had hit another soft spot, "I apologize. You are much too young to understand that aren't you, Autobot?" And Megatron can't help a smirk as the bristle turns into armor rattling.

"We’re not talking about that." He replies in a clipped tone.

"Should we not be transparent during this diplomatic process," Megatron adds, molding his faceplates into one of innocent curiosity, "I’m sure it will ease some tension around the ship or at least cause some mild confusion." 

Optimus had been in this meeting room since early this morning and he had only recharged for two megacycles this time around, because once again, he had lost track of time while working on another amendment that Megatron had mention with too much vigor yesterday.

He can't even remember what it was about now.

What Optimus could remember was this was the fourth solar cycle in a row that he had done this to himself and his systems were screaming at him to recharge. Apparently Megatron had been staying up late as well - if the tiny dissertations he brought him at the start of every meeting meant anything - but he didn't seem to be hindered by it. Actually he was looking more energized than usual. Probably because he didn't get to argue with an Autobot for an extended period of time and tell them how wrong they are. But regardless of all that Optimus was determined to make this work, even if it cost him some recharge.

But now he had brought up his creation status again and Optimus so _did not_ have the energy for that. He wasn't always prone to violence, but right now he wanted nothing more than to throw his axe into Megatron's dumb neck so he can cut off his distracting voice.

"Are you threatening me?" Optimus asks in an even tone.

"Please Autobot," He chuckles, "You would know when you are being threatened."

"I won’t give up on any of my stances from before. You know I'm right."

"Even at the risk of your own safety?" Megatron grins looking as vicious as a platinum viper ready to strike.

In a rush, Optimus stands from his seat full of irritation, "Other lives are at stake and I won’t let you ruin this because you're acting like the youngling you’re accusing me of being!"  He spits at the other.

The insult slipped from his tired and overworked processor and  the room stills to a frightening degree as Megatron looses all the mirth he once had. Standing, the lighting shades most of his features and leaves Optimus to only focus on the movement of his slow gait down the length of the table. Plating tense, shoulders taunt, seething EM, and moving as silently as a cyber-ninja. 

He looked every mechanometer of the terrifying warlord that he was.

Looking up when he finally reaches his end of the table Optimus almost remembers he should be cautious. That is until Megatron speaks again.

"Watch you words carefully, little Autobot."

"Don’t be a bully and maybe I will,” Optimus fires back, ignoring the sudden urge to stand on his chair to be taller.

They hold each other's glares until Megatron's gaze becomes inquisitive and that fills Optimus with more dread than he liked to admit. When Megatron was curiosity it usually had something to do with him.

"Why are you so worried if you’re found out? I have been wondering myself because it doesn’t make sense," He tells him as his optics scan over his frame, "You did make it to your final frame and integrated well into your society. Or well enough, considering your damaged reputation and your own peculiar personality. Of that, this would be the least concern. So why hide this?” He asks.

Optimus wants to be angry, wants to brush it off, but the reminder of inadequacy was like a stab to the spark. Megatron was only stating what Optimus knew, but it still hurts all the same. The gripping sense of numbness slowly crawls up and around every pumps and wires, settling as pressure against every joint. 

_ Don't say anything. Don't say anything and _ _ he’ll just get bored of it._

Optimus tries to look impassive and relax, but something must give him away because Megatron gives him a knowing look.

"You’re not worried about yourself are you?"

Disappointed in himself for giving his rival more ammunition Optimus turns away from the taller mech, there was nothing he could say that wouldn’t be incriminating and saying nothing is an answer in of itself. Briefly glancing back, he sees Megatron has developed a tiny grin, positively beside himself for bring up a topic Optimus didn't even want to talk about.

“Is there anything else you have to say or are you simply reminding me of a fact that I said I don’t want to talk about."

"I think it’s worth mentioning, especially since you did sur—"

"I said don’t want to talk about it!” Optimus snaps sharply, “You ask for mechas to listen to you all the time, but you are absolutely awful at doing it yourself!”

Fury, fear, and protectiveness all swell and jumble into one volatile emotion that press hard against the base of his helm like it was ready to burst.

“I’m simply curious about my liaison's accreditation. You seem to have a lot of opinions for your 'reportedly' short existence."

“Well stop!  This isn’t about me so stop trying to dissect my life."

"I —"

"NO!”

Slamming his servos on the table Optimus glares at it as he tries valiantly to slow his harsh venting to cool his body. The silence holds and the longer it does the calmer the buzzing hive of emotions washes away little by little. 

"Conclude this tantrum. We are likely to have unwelcome visitors soon."

"Tantrum!?”

Lifting his helm he throws a glare Megatron's way, but it loses it's potency when he sees him facing the windows and looking out into the asteroid field. But before Optimus could yell at him about that the rest of the sentence catches up to him.

“.... Wait. Visitors?"

"Pirates." Megatron answers plainly crossing his arms.

_ ** BOOM! ** _

The resulting shockwave from the explosion is worst than the few asteroids they hit earlier. Off balance and unprepared Optimus finds himself slamming into Megatron's side and sliding down his frame. Another explosion shakes the ship hard and Optimus finds himself grabbing hold of the nearest thing, sadly it's Megatron's leg. The room shudders for a longer period of time before settling and then the only noise was the boarding alarms blaring. Venting heavily, as this solar cycle couldn't get an worst, he pulls himself up by roughly digging his digits into Megatron's knee guards.

Standing, Optimus glares at the Decepticon, who looks down at him only mildly inconvenienced, even though Optimus was the one who didn't have an stabilization. 

"Really?" He asks flatly.

"Yes?" Megatron questions back, raising an uninterested optic ridge. 

"It’s common courtesy to stop someone from falling over. And to help them up when they fall."

Raising the other ridge he asks drolly, "Do you expect me to be accustom to bots falling over from a simple wobble? Especially smaller ones?"

Optimus feels his irritation building again as Megatron doesn't even addressed the part about helping someone else up. What was he even expecting from this bot anymore?

"It would kill you, wouldn't it? To be considered?" 

Resting a servo on his hip, Megatron leans forward, bracing himself against the table and looming over him with a smug and wicked grin.

"According to your propaganda it just might, little Autobot." He purrs in his stupidly soft, but rich voice.

_Why is his voice so infuriatingly demeaning and annoyingly soothing at the same time!? _

No cutting words come to mind and only a frustrated whine escapes Optimus' vox against his will. But before Megatron can obviously tease him the PA clicks on,

“Zis is jour co-captain speaking — **AND ZIS IS JOUR CO-CAPTAIN SHOUTING!** — _And zis is your co-captain laughing! ~ HA-Ha-Ha-HAAA! We’ve just been invited to a space battle with the space samurai space pirate Bludgeon!_”

Sliding down another hall, Blackarachnia sees two more pirates and quickly webs them together before hurdling over them. She needed to get to the vent system in the southern part of this level, it was the fastest way to the power core. Begin in the vents to replace a few of the mics, Blackarachnia was in the right place at the right time to overhear that the Captain telling his crew to flood the core so it would dilute the energon storages and the ship would be dead in space. It would be much easier to take a ship if its blast doors aren't cutting you off from the bridge. And she was not about to deal with hiding and then having to hitchhike back across the galaxy if they actually took the ship.

That faster route was one vent at the end of third level, which was a straight shot to the core and the only one on this deck. Maybe it was a good thing Megatron demanded she place those mics. Taking another corner too fast she jumps and adheres to the wall and runs in a curve so she can get back to the floor, but just as quickly as she is upright again she jumping to the side as one of Optimus' little crew comes flying pass her with his stingers live and shooting. Looking down the corridor, she sees one of her failed experiments straightening back up from a throwing pitch.

"Watch where you're throwing things!" She snaps as she steps over the downed pirate, who had way too many blasters mods and not enough armor, "And shouldn't you be outside trying to freeze off some of the space barnacles of the hull?"

Blitzwing's monocle cycles down as he narrows his optic, but he calmly keeps his cool head for once, "Megatron demanded I keep ze bridge secure. And ze Seekerz and ze Autobot Seekletz are handling cover fire — _Besides I never have time to chuck Autobotz anymore!_" He cackles wildly.

"No one asked you to throw me!" Comes the whinny incredulous response, but the green minibot standing behind Blitzwing, just shrugs and says,

"Bumblebot said he needed better vantage point." And that has the yellow one struggling for words.

Rolling her optics at the trio of stupid Blackarachnia pushes pass Blitzwing and picks up her pace again. Grinning to herself when she sees her destination she jumps up and adheres to the ceiling, crawling the rest of the way to the vent. Ripping it off its hinges and slipping in she's a short crawl away from the energon-conduit shaft and than she free falling helm first towards the neon glow of the core. Spraying a web near the opening she braces herself to slam into the grate, busting through and her webbing snapping at the right tension giving her enough time to slow down.

Dropping down and immediately Blackarachnia senses something flying at her. Dodging to the side, she spins around ready to fight whoever took a swing at her only to see the giant green oaf that wasn't as dumb as he looked.

"Oh it’s you," He says sounding oddly relieved, "Sorry. I thought some other bot was coming to — Oh! Actually it's perfect you're here." And then he waves her over to the controls at the base of the core.

Looking around she sees that there were a few dents in the wall, but besides that most of the damage was regulated to the four bots laid out around the room. Guess she wasn't really needed here after all.

"Not what bots usually say."

"Well have you tried being nicer?" He asks innocently.

The growl she produces echoes menacingly throughout the wide chamber and makes the bigger mech shrink in on himself.

"You didn't want an answer, did you?" He asks mournfully.

"No," She snaps before pointing to the control panel, "What do you want?"

"I need you to type out a code for me. I’d do it myself but," And opening and closing his three digit servos a few times Blackarachnia gets the idea, "I’d crushed the system. I actually had Sari to help me —"

"Shove over," Groaning at his rambling, she pushes him out of the way so she can be directly in front of the textscreen, "Okay what now?"

"One of the pirates tried to overload the core and almost did before I stopped her. But its still consuming a lot of energon and heating up and I can't forces it back down," He tells her shyly before asking, "Do you know Novastream's fusion law?"

"For thermal energy. Duh."

"That’s what we need – well the energy output form of it. But instead change the values to 3.4 so the cooling systems will —"

"Super chill the coolant at large increments so the system will use that kinetic energy to fuel its own cooldown while dumping the excess heat outwards saving it from overload. I'm not a lead science officer for nothing." She says as she begins to bypass systems to type out the equation to force the system to cool itself.

"Well, not to brag, but I totally crushed it on my first space battle," Sari beams as the air lock depressurizes behind her, "Damn that is so weird to say." She laughs to herself as she dusts off the small amount of debris and frost from her armor.

"Language!" Ratchet yells from the cockpit, "And you weren't even supposed to be out there! What if something happened. What if you couldn't breathe?"

Well it wasn't like she was going to leave them to be sitting ducks. She had done that enough and had to do something.

With them teetered to the _Steelhaven, _Omega couldn't transform and his range of weapons hit the asteroids more than the bots flying around. Besides, she only had to take out one pirate, Lugnut took out the others while she made her way to the pirates' spaceship to turn their own targeting system against them. She knows the Clones and the Twins appreciated it because they told her. Well the Twins said thank you so she was just going to assume the Clones felt the same.

"Relax Ratch," Sari says as she flies over to him, "I did fine. Tell him Lugnut."

And looking back at the giant Decepticon lumbering in, he comes to a stop in the doorway while his eyes circle down to pinpricks. After a few uncomfortable seconds of his laser focus stare they cycle back open and he walks further into the room.

"Your minicon does not lie," He grumbles as his eyes narrow again, "She did do ... admirably for someone of her size and faction."

With a relieved sigh, Sari turns back to an unconvinced Ratchet, "Look at that. I got a Decepticon to admit I was awesome so you know I was."

But Ratchet was still frowning at her, except that wasn't anything new so she was going to take it as a win regardless.

"I was asked my opinion! I do not advocate that —"

**THUNK.**

Looking over to the sound, Sari was expecting a piece of loose paneling to have fallen, instead she sees one of Lugnut’s arms on the ground beside him. Blinking silently at the arm Sari is quiet for all of two seconds before a laugh bubbles up from her stomach. Lugnut’s own body stopped him from yelling!

"It is not funny minicon." Lugnut grumbles as he picks it back up and pops it back into place only for it to fall off again.

It was too much and Sari is rolling in laughter again taking refuge on Ratchet's shoulder or she knew she was going to fly into a wall or the floor.

Finally containing her laughter she looks over to see what Ratchet thought of the whole thing, but only finds the irritable look that he gets when someone – Bumblebee and Optimus – would skip out on mandatory scans and small repairs. Immediately Sari is jumping into the air and starting her jetpack again, flying off to the side because the Hatchet was in.

"Does that happen often?" Ratchet asks lowly.

"No!" Lugnut shouts, eyes glowing a brighter red, "It is a glitch!"

"A glitch doesn't make your arm fall off." Ratchet replies.

"Maybe you don't know of this new glitch." Lugnut accuses him.

Hissing, Sari shakes her head in disappointment, "Oh. Bad move there, buddy."

And Ratchet's face twists up in disbelief and old man anger, "Are you telling me, a trained medical professional and veteran of the last war, that I wouldn't know a glitch when I see one?" He asks in a very even voice.

_Oh he isn't raising his voice. He's super pissed._

"My specs are highly specific," Lugnut huffs, "It would not be a surprise if a simple Autobot medic could not understand them." Using his own arm to point at Ratchet.

"Give me the arm."

"I do not need to heed your words!" Lugnut bellows.

"THAT'S NOT VERY NICE,” Omega rumbles sadly.

It always gave Sari goosebumps when he talk, it was like standing next to a very kind bass stereo.

"RATCHET IS A VERY GOOD DOCTOR. YOU SHOULD LISTEN TO HIM. HE FIXED ME."

"You are a ship." Lugnut informs Omega.

"Shipformer." 

"Not a thing Sari."

"Just trying to help."

"It's appreciated. The arm!" Ratchet finally yells, throwing his hand out to grab it only for Lugnut to whisk it away.

"NEVER!"

As the two glare at each other Sari watches from a safe distance, trying to think of a way to make both bots happy... or at least Ratchet happy. That's what really mattered. And thinking about Ratchet she comes up with a great, maybe devious, plan to help.

"Lugnut," She calls out to the Decepticon. And as he turns his glare at her looks down at him innocently and ask, "Are you sacred of doctors?"

"What?" Comes the scandalize shout, but whatever he was going to say is interrupted.

"YOU DON'T NEED TO BE AFRAID. RATCHET IS VERY KIND AND GENTLE. HE WILL FIX YOU."

_Words I would never used to his face._

"Lugnut fears nothing! Most of all a small Autobot medic!" He shouts at the ceiling, waving his arm at it.

"So then you wouldn't be afraid of Ratchet taking a look at your arm then?" Sari asks, trying to hold back a smile.

She had backed him into a corner that he couldn't get out of without admitting he was lying or to lie. And judging by how much his armor was rattling and how narrow his eyes had gotten Sari is 60% sure that she's got this in the bag.

"... I don't approve of this." He grumbles before dropping his arm and raising his chin high like a defiant child.

But using his electromagnets Ratchet just lifts it up and nods his head towards the back of the ship, "They never do, but you're going to have to better than that. I've been working on fussy patients for centuries. You're nothing new."

His proximity senses alert him before he truly sees anything and Megatron stops short of crossing the corridor, but Optimus dives forward in a roll as the object blocks off the walkway. Quickly pulling a sword from subspace Megatron swings as it comes too close. The ensuing shriek has the mech noticing that what he just cut was a metallic tentacle.

Looking down the hall that separated them from the elevator he watches as a creature drags itself and its tentacles through the hull, successfully holding up the secondary blast doors trying to keep it out.

An Oreket Kraken. The most terrifying and infamous creature to plague Talos III's oceans and lowlands and Bludgeon had tamed one. 

As it hefted itself more into hall one of its bulbous orange optics comes into view and focus on him, cycling down in anger. With a roar it lashes out with one of it's hooked arms but Megatron swats it away into the nearby wall, embedding it there. But this does not deter the creature as its screams, vitriolic rage radiating off it, as it rips its arm from the wall and strikes again. But Megatron sidesteps it and it smashes through the wall becoming entangled in the wiring. 

"Impressive." Megatron comments, though letting his field show disappointment and letting the creature's fury roll over him in deliciously dangerous waves.

"What are you doing?!"

Turn to Optimus with a lackluster answer on the tip of his glossa Megatron finds himself coming up short at what he sees pass the wriggling tentacles.

"Stop antagonizing it. Do something helpful!" Optimus shouts as he hacks at a tentacle with hooked barbs.

With a trilling screech the kraken moves some of its arms back, just enough that Megatron's view is not obscuring. And yet nothing changes. He still sees Optimus Prime, Autobot of Cybertron and secret sparkling, optics' in a light lavender hue.

His optics changed.

His optics changed! 

_He has lavender optics!_ _By the Allspark, h__ow did not I notice this before!?_

But being honest with himself, Megatron was more focused on his plans for the Allspark. He barely even registered Optimus’ presence beside being a deterrent. But oh what a prize he had missed and the Autobots had no clue. Those lavender optics gave away more than the Prime knew, but Megatron would be keeping this secret to himself. He never knew when he would need some extra leverage.

Pulling out his other sword Megatron rotates his wrist joints like his Earth mode and cuts through three tentacles and then pins another two to the floor. Glancing to the perturbed Autobot he smirks at his growing displeasure,

"Well? Aren't you going to do something helpful?" He asks in an innocent tone.

Vibrations of a sub-vocal growl were unexpected, but only fuels Megatron's mirth and excitement as Optimus' optics glow even more fiercely and his dermas twist up into a scowl that looks more like a pout. Then in a blur of reds and blues he dashes into the fray of arms and tentacles.

Jumping off the arms he quickly moves to the next one, sliding, rolling, or swing along the mechanical creature as it tries to reach out and fails to grasp the mech. If Megatron wasn't watching closely he wouldn't have noticed what the Autobot was doing, using his smaller frame to squeeze through and around the larger arms. And as Optimus slips through he wraps his grapplers around the arms to snag the creature, but for him to do so would be exceptionally hard —

"Megatron!"

The shout is the only warning he has before he is stopping a solitarium axe aimed for his chassis. Exchanging a glare with Optimus he sees that the axe had the grappler lines tied to the other end. Not giving it another thought he wraps the lines around his left forearm and pulls.

In nanokliks Optimus' servo-work is shown off as eight tentacles are pulled tightly together. The creature rallies at its capture causing Megatron to plant himself firmly as it tries to pull at it's binds. But despite Optimus catching most of the arms he missed one of the longer arms. The one that he had hacked at before.

It goes swinging back towards him, but Optimus meets it half way and slams into it. Mechhandling it so that the flat part of the arm hits the karken's optic dead center wild sparks of electricity jump and dance around Optimus in a deadly display as the creature shrieks in pain. It's optic cracks and melts under the powers of its own arm, but Optimus holds it firmly in place. With one last ghastly and pitiful squeak the karken goes limp as it passes out, venting hard and heavy as it's body smokes from its injury.

Letting go of the line, Megatron tosses Optimus his axe as he walks to the top of the coil of wrangled tentacles. Subspacing the weapon, Optimus surveys their fallen foe and Megatron can't denied Optimus does make a rather dashing image with his bright colors and his power pose. Autobots always were designed for aesthetics instead of practicality.

Turning towards him, Megatron is met with the usual light blue optics and an impressed look at what they had done.

"Well that worked better than I thought," He says with an exhausted, but happy sigh.

"Quite," Megatron agrees, "It seems those grapplers can be more useful than ensnaring yourself."

The subsequent pout, however brief as his mask goes up, is no less amusing. He was much too easy to rattle. Yet it was refreshing to see such true emotions when he was usually surrounded by a multitude of stalwart expressions.

_He thinks he's so funny. I bet he wouldn't be laughing if he got caught by —_

One moment Optimus' up right and the next his gyroscope is spinning and he's weightless. Then as soon as it happen it stops and he was looking at a large purple and white Decepticon insignia. In increments, Optimus raises his optics off the barrel chest to Megatron's striking optics, slating down in ruby impassiveness.

Optimus had never been this close to Megatron before, except when they were fighting, but that always a dire whirlwind pace. Danger averted, Optimus could see features that he hadn't noticed before; like the sharpness of Megatron's jawline, the strength and dependability of his helmet, how the lights overhelm highlighted his sparse but intense deep colors, and how he was standing very relaxed holding him like he weighted almost nothing.

Then Megatron smoothly lifts an optic ridge and Optimus starts receiving alerts about his internal temperature and closed vents. Burning hotter at the warning his body acts on its own and vents the excess heat through the gaps in his chassis. Now his facemask didn't matter because anyone could have seen how flustered he was around Megatron, including Megatron himself! And chancing a glance up, after the most embarrassing moment of his life, Optimus sadly finds those smooth dermas lifting up into smoldering smirk.

Then he's weightless again and coming to an abrupt stop with his aft smarting this time. Looking up, he watches as Megatron starts to make his way around the karken and realizes that Megatron had just dropped him.

Stopping, he turns around, "Come along little Autobot. We have a pirate captain to meet," Then with a sly grin adds, "And afterwards you can stare all you like."

Jumping to his pedes, mortified, Optimus runs pass Megatron to the elevator, leaving him behind as he contacts his teammates about where he should convene. He didn't think he was so tired that he would start pointing out how Megatron's charismatic voice wasn't the only thing attract_—_

_Stop thinking about him!_

Rubbing at his audial bolts in despair Optimus can already feel a helmache coming on and just knows it'll upgrade to a processor ache if he doesn't calm down. Disengaging his mask he take in some air through his intake to calm himself as the elevator descends. Instead of calm, fatigue slams into him like one of Megatron's punches and _— _He really did need to stop thinking about Megatron. Busying his processors with other thoughts about all the briefings and damage reports he would have to do now because of this space battle, Optimus slowly but surely pushes his silly thoughts to the back of his mind.

Making it to the cargo hold Optimus sees about twenty bots stuck in webbing or stasis cuffs being herded back onto their craft by Bumblebee, Wasp, Bulkhead, and Blitzwing. Off to the side Jazz was standing next to Prowl, who was holding a cyber sword, and across from a femme and a mech who both had optic patches and were detained by Sentinel. As Optimus walks closer he could hear the mech waxing poetically about Prowl's his skill.

"_— _and your grace Prowl," He sighs dreamily, "As deadly as the frigid winds on Orga. Come away with me."

"What?" Jazz starts, engine revving angrily and it was the most unnerved Optimus had ever seen him.

"I can give you the stars Prowl," The pirate continues, "Show you the gorgeous Cooper Jungles of Talos III or the wondrous Agate Canyons of Stero. I have a feeling you would enjoy the scenery and you would greatly compliment their beauty. And as we sail through the emptiness of space I would not be against being your new sensei. I could give you a greater understanding of Crystalocution, Tahtib-tron, Tekkaido..." 

The pirate - who had to be the Captain Bludgeon - paints a lofty scenario, but Optimus can see Prowl is not impressed. But as he stands straighter Bludgeon gives Prowl a look over before his grin becomes smarmy at best.

"I could even show you new techniques Prowl," He bending forward as much as Sentinel would let him, he looms over the shorter mech with a lecherous grin, "Including my honed Metallikato. You look extremely intimidating with Plasmaguard now, but if you let me, I can show you the proper way to hold it. I do know how to weld my sword expertly." Bludgeon purrs.

Three things happen at once; the femme rolls her working optic, Sentinel wisely takes a step back with the pirates, and Jazz snaps.

"Hey!" Shoving the captain back more and glaring up at him, "Back off and show some respect!" 

"Is complimenting a mech as fine as Prowl wrong?" Bludgeon glares and tries to loom over Jazz.

"It is when you're being crass about it!" Jazz bites back. 

Picking up his pace to go help Sentinel out and reel in Jazz, Optimus stops short when Prowl reaches out for the other ninja. He hesitating for a moment, but then places a placating servo on Jazz's arm. Looking down to the other ninja Prowl shakes his head and the anger in Jazz just seeps out. He does take a few steps back, but still holds a fierce expression and Optimus feels his field sparking with strong dislike.

"No thank you. Your life sounds unnecessarily stressful," Prowl tells him blandly before glancing back just slightly at Jazz, "And I have previous long lasting engagements here that I’m looking forward to."

Before the pirate could make another offer a deep timber interrupts and simultaneously caresses up the back of Optimus' structs.

"I would have thought you would learn from your last run in with a flagship, Bludgeon." Megatron says sternly as he stalks towards their now terrified guest.

"Emperor Megatron!" 

Quickly backing away, Optimus watches as the Decepticon leader interrogates and belittles Bludgeon by just staring him down. Looking to his fellow Autobots that joined him away from the sweet talking the pirate captain was attempting on Megatron, Optimus turns his back and tries to distract himself.

"I didn’t think it would ever happen again." He tells Prowl lightly.

And he hums in agreement, a bemused smile playing at his dermas, "Yes. I seem to have a presences of some sort around me that draws in ninja deserters."

"What's that mean?" Jazz asks curiously.

"Lockdown offered for me to be his partner when we were in pursuit of Starscream." Prowl tells him in a somber tone.

Both Jazz and Sentinel's jaws drop in surprise, but Jazz recovers with a timid expression and lightly knocks the back of Prowl's servo with his own.

"Hopefully you’ll draw in some other type of ninjas now."

Prowl stares back, silent, before giving him an equally shy nod, "I would like to hope so."

And the smile that Jazz gives Prowl has Optimus coming to the sudden realization that he might be seeing a datapad in the future from Prowl requesting permission to court.

_That's a nice thought. I could see that they would be good for each other._

"Where were you during all of this?" Sentinel demands jolting Optimus out of a blue screen.

Turning to him Optimus blinks blankly at Sentinel's stern expression, trying to come back from his short black out. His vision begins to waver again as his HUD starts throwing up alerts to recharge and defrag. Optimus is almost proud of himself for going this long. Hiding a yawn with a sigh he shrugs and opts to just listen to whatever Sentinel is going to say because he doubts anything he could say would be coherent.

"That's it? A shrug?" Sentinel ask with an incredulous expression, "You couldn't have been arguing that hard to do nothing during this siege. We had to fight the Captain and his first mate all on our own, you know - Not that it was too hard, but still. It was a good thing I always have stasis cuffs on me." 

"We were detained fighting an Orken Kraken." The answer intones from behind him.

Jolting and spinning around, Optimus finds Megatron much closer than he was comfortable with right now. Taking a few steps back he bumps into Sentinel and turns around to apologize, but is caught off guard by the other Prime's gaping expression. It was the funniest thing he had seen in awhile and it has Optimus unconsciously smiling for the first time today.

"Chartreuse?!" Captain Bludgeon yells, seeming to be over his fear from only moments ago, "Is she offline?" 

"No. Just two cut tentacles and an injured optical sensor." Optimus tells him, now feeling bad for injuring the mech's pet... even if she was trying to attack them.

"An electro-tentacle to the optics will do that." Megatron comments lightly.

Frowning, he looks over to the Decepticon leader, "I didn't know they were electrically tipped."

"What?!" Bludgeon shouts before glaring murderously at him, "What is your designation?"

"O-Optimus Prime." He stutters, struck by the severity of the glare.

His single optic narrows to only a sliver of red as he says in a threatening tone, "You have just made an adversary this solar cycle Optimus Prime. No one hurts my squibly and gets away with it!" Then turning to Megatron, "My lord, I have agree to your terms so I would like to request her back... And my sword." He asks in a mild tone.

_At least someone remembers my name, but I really don't want him too._

"Well you've done quite excellent today."

Closing his optics for a moment at the mocking tone Optimus rubs at his optics before looking up to see another grin on Megatron's dermas, "Outlined a law enforcement agreement, fought a karken, and made an enemy. With a pirate no less. That just doesn't happen any solar cycle anymore, when do you have the time to rest?"

_I don't. _

Optimus thinks mournfully to himself as he fights off another yawn.

_That's why I made such an idiot of myself earlier._

"Now."

Startled by the forceful voice, Optimus tries to figure out who said that, but doesn't have to wonder long as Prowl speaks up again.

"Everything is done as Megatron said. And you don’t need to be here for clean-up as the ship is already in repair mode. I can get the reports from everyone later and brief you after you've rested," He tells him, though at this point it sounded more like a command, "You deserve it."

"I totally agree."

Optimus turns to Sentinel and fixes him with a skeptical look, which he waves off, "You’d just slow us down with how dead on your pedes you are. Everyone has other things to do and I don't want to have to fill out an extra report about you injuring yourself while trying to fix something."

It was a somewhat nice sentiment, but Optimus is sure he’ll hear a different version later, though he could care less. Looking back to Prowl who gives him a confirming nod Optimus can see he's been out maneuvered.

"Alright, but if anything happens I'm only a comm away." Optimus tells Prowl, but has a feeling that it would be ignored.

Turning around he almost walks straight in Megatron and has to backing up before walking around him in a wide arc keeping his optics down.

But it doesn't stop him from noticing his flustered response.

"Rest well little Autobot. We will have much to discuss when you are ready." Megatron calls after him and Optimus ducks his head, hoping his visor cap can hide the rising warm to his face.

Making it to the elevator the ride to the quarters level is quick, but Optimus is sure he closed his optics again, its the only answer for why he was leaning against the wall. With a herculean he pushes himself off the wall and shuffles down the hall to his room. As he does with his mind almost blissfully blank, except for counting down how many doors away he was from his destination, he comes to the understanding that he doesn't have any responsibilities for an unspecified amount of time.

That wild thought stops him in tracks.

Usually not having anything to do would make him anxious, but now Optimus felt like his trailer had just been pushed off his shoulders. His whole body sags under that news and his steps feel a bit lighter m as he makes the rest of the trek to his quarters.

Walking into his dark room, Optimus stumbles towards his berth and face plants onto it, sighing in relieve. As he rolls onto his back and sinks into the compact foam Optimus can feel himself already slipping into desperately needed oblivion. Prowl was right, he had needed this and once he was fully rested Optimus knew he would be back in his right state of mind.

And that meant he wouldn't find an insufferable warmongering revolutionary irresistible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOT TAKES :)  
\- Blitzwing is chaotic energy in its purest form and I love his antics so much ;), but adding the accent is hard  
\- I think I enjoyed mixing and matching teams too much; Ratchet and Lugnut's fight was very entertaining for me  
\- Prowl is too skillful for his own good, he brings out all the creeps.  
\- Optimus, babey, take care of yourself and go to sleep. It won’t stop you from think Megatron is sexy, but still go to sleep  
\- And Megatron just found out another clue! Optimus life just got a bit harder...again  



	8. (“Trust”);

As the last of the data transfer is completed Optimus smiles as another section of the treaty's groundwork is sent off to Cybertron. He was honestly surprised with how fast he was receiving updates from the Council about their decisions and rulings on the outline. But since they were hopeful for the Decepticons' aerial prowess and strength it wasn't too much of a surprise.

He should probably be surprised by how little the outline was changed.

A lot of the wording was his own and it sparked both soaring joy and absolute petrifying terror that the Autobot Council read what he wrote and then deemed it perfect for a legally binding document. It was unreal and not what he thought he would be doing with his function, but as of now it was nice. Nice to be heard and acknowledged.

“Very good Commander," The sincere tone has Optimus looking up to the screen and Alpha Trion, who looks pleased with what he was reading, "I look forward to the discourse this will start in the chambers.”

Nodding along, Optimus retracts his data cable and spools it back into his forearm, but Alpha Trion does not let his silence hinder him from speaking.

"What is the matter? And do not cite that 'it is nothing' because I have found over the centuries that it is a false statement."

Closing his mouth, Optimus thinks about the multitude of things running around his processor that would have him quiet during a private call like this. With so many he chooses the one he hopes will have the shortest discussion. He didn't want to air out all his worries on a chance call like this.

“Still not use to that - The title - I guess.” He manages.

“It is long overdue and surely deserved.” Alpha Trion tells him in that sagely tone he always used to pass down judgement.

“You're just saying that.” Optimus smiles.

“You know that I'm not.” Alpha Trion retorts mildly amused.

Alpha Trion rarely showed that level of emotion around any other mecha and Optimus didn't think he would ever see it again with everything that had happen since his Academy days. And in that moment everything was normal again, like how it used to be before he snuck away to Boot Camp. Even when he visited after they reconciled Optimus' running away he could always tell that the elder was extremely worried and held himself like he was always bracing for bad news. Alpha Trion only relaxed the longer he stayed, but the moment Optimus was leaving he was tense again.

“Optimus." And focusing back on him Optimus can see he wasn't the only one lost in the memories.

"I never got to tell you how relieved I was to see you were well. When the report came in about your disappearance... and then the Guard could find no trace of ..." And the elder mech trails off, turning to the side as he collects himself and Optimus sorely wishes he could be there with him.

"I'm okay grandcarrier. I’m here," He tells him, voice catching in his throat. Childishly reaching out to touch the screen Optimus finds himself the closest he has ever been to his compatible unit in centuries, "A little worst for wear, but after all the battles I've been in I'm glad its only that."

Turning back, his grandcarrier puts on a brave face and raises two digits to the screen as well, his size making it look like he was dwarfing Optimus' servo, like it once did.

"Truly?" Alpha Trion asks quietly, voice shaking.

"Truly," Optimus replies back, smiling for his grandcarrier until he does, "How are you?"

"The Qidried have not made any new advancements since we last correspondence," His answer very professional before he leans slight forward and says in a conspiratorial whisper, "But that is not what you wanted to know, is it?"

Shaking his head, Optimus fights the silly grin attempting to break onto his face.

"I am well. Much more since hearing about your team's recovery. Knowing you are in good health is enough for me. And before all this talk of war again I had found an early set of network commands from the Polyhexian Darkmount Period in the Archives and started repairing them."

And Optimus grins, remembering the fun and delight that he felt when he helped his grandcarrier restore older datapads. The surprise and adventure of uncovering things lost and bringing them back to life.

"I still am when I get the time. It will be interesting to see how their grasp of Cyberglyphics expanded to encompass the majority of the north eastern hemisphere," Alpha Trion continues, "I am hoping that the Drouhard University's Coding Department will be able to discern some historic links between this and the Tribus Dialect Split."

"That sound amazing! I hope you're right," Optimus says brightly, "I mean with that period being so close to the Minor War of Hex, which still left both sides as superpowers to spread their influence, it's not unlikely. Are you getting any help or is it a personal project?"

"Personal project, but worry not, I have alerted both Lightspeed and Ambulon of what I am doing." He more or less mumbles at the end.

"Good," Optimus says sternly, "I don't need you getting another nano-bug." 

Rolling his optics, Alpha Trion sighs, "Cleaning up folk musical notations from Helex and I accidentally download a virus and no one lets you live it down," He laments, "You should be complaining to the Harmonex Historical Foundation. They had them in their possession first and failed to keep a good record of the infected or damaged pads."

"I think it was the part where you insisted you were fine and kept working." Optimus teases.

"I was practically immune at that point." His grandcarrier bristles as he looks away and it draws a short chuckle from Optimus.

"I don't think that's how it works."

Alpha Trion glances back and the frown melts away into a soft smile, "You might be right. But enough about me. How has life been on the _Steelhaven_?"

"It’s been...fine. Interesting. We had a run in with some pirates, but we handled it." 

Even as he read over the reports that Prowl had gathered for him it was still so weird to think that it actually happened. It all seemed like an adventurous flux to Optimus, one he had created running on only the equivalent of ten megacycles over four long solar cycles. But reading how the _Star Jumper_ was crippled by the Clones and the Twins and how because they didn't have the time or resources to hold them that it was decided to let them go Optimus knew it wasn't a fantasy flux. Plus the menacing note that Megatron had left saying he had 'taken care of it' has Optimus rolling his optics at the mech's dramatic nature and knowing that was a very real thing he would do.

"Hmm. It seems that your plan for Autobots and Decepticons to work together is not so far-fetched now. It's at least plausible." Alpha Trion cites in his sagely tone.

"...I guess it is." Optimus agrees, but mentally he was still 'on the fence' as humans would say.

He still felt unease from the Decepticons, though it was more wary than fearful. Then there was Megatron knowing he was a sparked Cybertronian and the anxiety of wondering what he would do with that information still prickled at his processor. And when he wasn't worrying about that he was concern over Rodimus' — 

"Optimus?" Snapping his helm up to his grandcarrier Optimus sees him scrutinizing him like he was a coded datalog, "Is there something wrong?" 

“I-I was just wondering how Rodimus was.” Optimus tells him quietly.

With a solemn expression Alpha Trion nods knowingly, "I understand. I am sure you can tell he is well, but I do have good news. He has reacted well to the antidote and is back to being his usual self, a terror and a charmer all in one. The medical staff is very divided on how to act around him when I visited last.” 

“Sounds like him,” Optimus smiles lightly at the good news, “And Kup? How's he been handling it?”

“He has gone back to his cankerous attitude again last I saw him,” Alpha Trion replies exasperated.

“Then Rodimus must be doing better,” Optimus says to himself before he's frowning again, “He has opened the bond again, but not enough for me to tell how he's really doing. Even when I press against it, it's like he's waving me away.”

“That is understandable," Alpha Trion consoles him, "There are still many repairs and much more cosmetic maintenance to be done yet. Rodimus does not wish for you to feel the pain of those procedures."

"But still..." Trailing off, Optimus sighs in irritation and rubs at his audial bolt with his free servo. He just wish he could be there with him. With all of them.

"Speaking of pain, have you been taking care of yourself? How have your helmaches been?" The scrutinizing look is back, but instead of reaching out like last time Optimus frowns at the reminder of one of his short-comings.

And his silence is long enough that he knows he's given his grandcarrier all the information he needed. Optimus knows he stresses himself out with his constant worrying about being a leader and some other personal concerns. They have both led to many painful and mentally draining solar cycles.

"Not great, but I'm trying," He says through gritted dentea, but even he can hear how aggravated he sounds. Sighing he looks back and says in a softer tone, "I’ll try harder. I’ll be fine... I promise."

"You must try less to calm your mind youngling. Let your processor be at ease at least in this regard, that Rodimus is well and receiving treatment. You can speak with him when you make it home."

"I will. And I can't wait to see you too." Optimus says softly, pressing his servo harder against the screen that the colors smeared.

"Yes. It has been far too long," Alpha Trion agrees with a sullen smile, "I wait patiently for your arrival... Take care."

"Take care." And with a heavy spark Optimus cuts the feed, but still holds his servo to the warm screen for a few moments more before finally leaving.

As they made their way to the training arena to mediated with Jazz, Jetfire feels tendrils of joy hop and jump across their bond. Turning to his brother with a grin he gets one in return.

"Happy brother? Why?" Jetfire asks with a growing smile, already sure of what Jetstorm would say, but he liked the happiness feedback that came out of it.

"Thinking of pirate battle. We do very well! Pulled off move like Slipstream said." Jetstorm exclaims.

"Yes," Jetfire agrees before a devious little thought enters his mind, "But that is making one of us." He taunts.

With a wild gasp Jetstorm jumps back, "Brother! You have wounded me!"

Slapping a servo over his chassis and stumbles back into the opposite wall making a silly face with his glossa hanging out of his mouth. Jetfire cannot help his snickering at his twin's silly antics, he always knew how to make him laugh.

After holding the position for a moment Jetstorm hops back up pointing his thumbs at himself and with a grin says, "But remember, I was one to pull off tighter turn." 

"I pulled up fastest." Jetfire fires back with a bigger smile.

"Mine barrel roll is better." 

"Nuh-uh!" 

"Uh-huh!" 

At the same time they launch themselves at each other to tickle the other and start laughing as their digits dig into the seams in their soft protoform. Jumping back and laughing more Jetfire feels light and happy, just like when he is flying, that's why he is so confused when the numbness creeps in. It comes in fast and he feels out of body for a moment before it settles in the pit of his tanks, mellowing, but it's enough to ruin Jetfire's mood. And noticing the silence he looks up to see his brother holding his arm tight and looking down, his visor dimmer than before.

_It happened again._

Jetfire hated that this happened. Hated it even more that he was the first to feel it more often and plague his twin with it.

"Brother? Do you... You felt it again, yes?" He asks quietly.

Jetstorm opens his mouth, but pauses and that's all the answer he needs.

"Yes... But less than last time." His brother tries to reassure him.

But that doesn't take away the fact that it still happened. Of course Jetfire liked the new abilities they were given, how much fun and freeing it was to move through the air and how much stronger they felt. But when the numbness, the floating when they weren't flying, ran through their frames Jetfire can feel nothing but guilt.

"If I not fall then —"

Hearing steps coming he stops speaking as his brother shakes his helm 'no', trying to push love and acceptance through the bond. Looking around the corner he perks up as he sees Optimus Prime. He and his brother quite like this Prime. He was very tired, but very nice to them.

"Oh! Hello Jetfire. Jetstorm." He greets them with a small smile.

"Hello Optimus Prime sir." They answer back trying to sound cheerful.

"I wasn't looking for you two, but I'm glad I caught you. I finally got a chance to view the footage of the broadside. I don't know much about flying, but the moves you two pulled off were incredible. I meant to tell you earlier, but —"

"It is okie for dokie Optimus Prime sir. Jazz sir said you needed recharge." Jetfire finishes for him.

"Not a solar cycle and a half." He murmurs as he turns away and rubs at the back of his helm shyly.

"But yelling makes tired everyone." His brother chimes in, "And you be yelling much with Decepticon Leader. It not surprise you are sleepy afterwards."

Jetfire nods in agreement as they had both seen it in action, "It's true. Sentinel Prime sir gets very tired after he yells at us. At least he says so."

The shy grimace disappears as a deeper frown appears, "He really shouldn't be." Optimus says bluntly.

Exchanging a look, they shrug in tandem, they were used to it.

_Just like the numbness._

Jetfire thinks sadly as he sighs.

"Jetfire? Is something wrong?"

Looking up he is met with the same face Optimus Prime gave them when they had fallen on Earth; kind and understanding, ready to listen.

And even if he said anything it would only make him feel worst. Then Jetfire feels a questioning prod over their bond and turning to Jetstorm gives him a look that has his mouth opening in surprise. Jetstorm was not the straightforward twin, it usually him that was asking or starting things. And the last time they brought the numbness up nothing change, what more could a Prime do if the Science Division could do nothing? But he had said on Earth he would listen if they wanted him too and Jazz always said talking it out was for the best.

_I guess it would not hurt to try._

Giving a nod to his brother Jetstorm shuffles over to stand closer to Optimus and whispers, "You said... You said we be telling you ... stuff if we wanted?" 

"And not yell?" Jetfire adds quickly. He didn't want to feel worse than he already did.

"Of course. Whatever you need." Optimus Prime says, his expression very understanding even though they haven't said anything yet.

"We be refinery bots first and were working... If I not start fight then we not be like this." Jetfire tells him quietly.

Then it all spills out.

What happened, how he provoke an argument high up on the rusty remains at the edge of the refinery. How his brother went after him and was injured as well. How they got these new frames given to them by the Science Division and were trained by Sentinel Prime and Jazz. But while the're new bodies were great there were still many times when they would feel a shudder go through them, but it wasn't really there. How they felt fine most of the time, but also so odd since their new bodies made them taller and bigger and they were still used to their smaller frames. 

As they get to the end of their explanation they watch as Optimus Prime's faceplates go through many emotions. From horrified, to sad, then finally angry, and it feels like a live wire goes through their system at his awful glare.

_He lied._

"I know it doesn't mean much, but I am sorry that happened to you. It was lucky that you survived at all, but you should have been asked before that...," Sighing heavily he frowns more before continuing, "It happened and you're alive and that's what matters right now."

Shaking his helm Jetfire watches the Prime confused. He was upset for them? He could feel the feedback of confusion from his brother as well as he dermas quirked up thoughtfully as he watched Optimus Prime. When they had told Preceptor he said it was them simply experiencing phantom limb and it would go away the more they trained and got used to their new frames. But it didn't and they never told the scientist again. 

"I have a question for the two of you," And the two of them perk up, giving Optimus Prime all their attention, "You don't have to answer if you don't want to. Okay?"

He waits for their nods of agreement before he goes on, "You both said you felt like you were out of place in your frames. Does it ever feel like floating, but not? I guess I would describe it —"

Surprise ignites and jumps across their bond as they watch the Prime mutter and mumble through describing sensations they felt. They didn't think anyone else knew how it felt. They thought they were alone, but Optimus Prime knew!

"— Or maybe more like you're not feeling anything, but you know you are. Like you're very aware of yourself but not —"

"Yes!" They shout and Optimus Prime startles back.

"You know of it too sir?" Jetfire asks urgently.

With a sad smile Optimus nods, "I get like that sometimes too. But I try to not let it stop me."

"What you do?!" He'd take anything to have them both stop feeling like this.

His optics widen with a nervous look before it becomes softer, "Well I found something to do to calm me down and get my focus off that feeling. I would encourage you two to find something that not only makes you feel good, but also enhances something about yourself that you like so you can forget about the numbness."

It seemed so simple, but it was the only thing and the nicest thing they had heard concerning this.

"We find something!" Jetfire declares going to shake Optimus' servo.

"And we become the best at it!" Jetstorm agrees just as loudly.

"Make ourselves feel better!"

"Okay, but that's just a remedy," Optimus smiles lightly as he stops himself from chuckling, "You should talk with someone better equipped to deal with what you're going though."

And that live wire jolt was back as they take a few steps back.

"You do?" Jetstorm asks sounding as distraught as Jetfire felt, "Is this not secrets?"

Optics widening in shock Optimus Prime shakes his helm viciously as he holds his servos out in surrender, "No! I wouldn't — Of course its a secret! No one needs to know if you don’t want them to. Only you get to make that decision."

He doesn't know which one of them rushes forward first, Jetfire couldn't tell, but it didn't matter as he and his brother tightly hugged Optimus Prime in thankfulness. And as the Prime returned it shyly all their fields mingled in protectiveness Jetfire felt normal for one of the first times since the accident.

Megatron finds himself watching Optimus Prime closely to see if he was guarded around him, but he carried on as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't paraded through the battle with the karken with lavender optics. Instead he witnesses the Prime becoming closer to the twins. His favoritism though was shown more in how he asked them how they were and giving them datapads on seekers and flight paths for them to learn from. The last two items were not something that was simply in Autobot possession.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Megatron's curiosity reaches its peak two days previously when he watched Optimus read through two datapads, seamlessly, as he cross-referenced his query about present ownership of city-states, and typing notes on a micro hardlight projector completely unflustered.

That level of multitasking was something only an archivist could do.

Megatron had seen archivists in the past practice similar actions, but with at least five datapads and using one servo each to type on two hardlight projectors. He had only seen this when he was afforded a brief chance to go to the Northern City, usually when a benefactor wanted a personal fight for his peers or one of the hidden undercity fights were more profitable. He would later retire to the Hall to relax in cool silence. And surrounded by the abundance of prominent literature Megatron hone his writings as he watched the ongoing political struggles in real time, viewing the efficiency and the monotony of an Autobot rule in their ‘gleaming’ capital.

But watching Optimus do the same was oddly captivating. And as of a few solar cycles ago Megatron was given his answer of how the Prime was able to manage it — Optimus Prime was Alpha Trion grandsparkling. And finding out Alpha Trion had a compatible unit was another surprise and mystery all in itself. Though with that being true it probably meant that the old bot hadn’t told Optimus about his optics and he was completely unaware.

So a solider, a strategist, and now an archivist along with his secret parentage and connection to one of the oldest Autobots in existence. This Prime was certainly a tempting enigma and one Megatron was determined to crack.

"Little Autobot," And Optimus frowns minutely before looking up from his micro-projector with a neutral expression.

“My name is Optimus Prime.”

Ignoring his usual response Megatron goes on, “How do you have access to Vosian midframe text on file and pre-War vids of maneuvers? It isn't something a solider should have access to."

Optimus watches him guardedly for a long moment before his optics fall onto the micro-projector.

"I had a lot of time to wander around the Hall of Records because my caregiver was often busy there," He admits quietly, "They still are and if I want to read something they will always wire it to me."

Megatron is shocked by the admission. He had assumed Optimus would give him a vague but honest sounding answer, but to narrow down the field of bots to a specific location was risky. And yet Megatron knew he was taking a calculated risk, hoping that if he gave some knowledge he would receive some in turn. In this situation Megatron usually didn't play this power game and left whatever prisoner bold enough to trade secrets for the guards and had them relying any new information they could get of them. This time though, he thinks he can make an exception.

"They must have be very neglectful," Megatron notes lightly.

Optimus isn't sure if he's trying to get a reaction out of him or if he was actually attempting small talk. The problem was that he could only detect three tones from Megatron; threatening and stern, disinterested and childish, or irritatingly suave. So overall it was hard to tell.

"No, they weren't. They just had other business to attend to."

And Optimus can just imagine being back among all the datapads he could ever read. And Rodimus' bright smile being directed at him as he constantly asked him 'why' anything was, stumbled after him as Optimus showed him any part of the archives he could.

"Plus, I was never alone or bored." Optimus says smiling to himself.

And thinking about Rodimus another memory resurfaces. Looking up to the other he is met with a serious gaze. If Megatron wanted to ask questions he was going to too.

"Since you so kindly asked a question I have one for you."

"Really?" Megatron says dully, "And what would that be?"

"Triple Changers," Optimus tells him plainly, "I know they’re rare, but is Blitzwing the only surviving one?"

"Reason being?”

"A friend of mine was very fascinated with them."

_"I need to be a Triple Changer!"_

_Jumping at the sudden shout he scrambles for the controls to the holo-screen. Pausing the vid on Tyger Pax's circular plateau cities he turns to his friend._

_"Why would you need to be one?" He asks the excitable 1850 stellar-cycle-old._

_"So I can be the fastest bot on all terrains!" Hot Rod exclaims excitedly, "I would be an off-roader and a street vehicle!" He bounces in place as he shows him the sparkling holographic pad he was looking through. _

_Looking down he sees the images of a single Triple Changer moving in two directions. One changing into a truck and the other into a plane._

_"I ... I guess that makes sense." He says lightly, trying to encourage Hot Rod's dream, though he's sure it's not possible._

_"See," Hot Rod grins victoriously before taping on his helm, "You got think outside the mainframe. I'm going to go tell carrier!"_

"You are correct that they are rare,” Megatron answers and breaks Optimus out of his nostalgic reverie. He looks across the table, considering, before continuing, “All our surviving Triple Changers are apart of a infiltration team."

Optimus is surprised by the tiny blurb of information, but delighted that he would purposely shared it.

“I hope they aren't all like Blitzwing," Megatron raises an optic ridge in question and Optimus explains, "One crazy cackle is enough for me."

"It is a good diversion tactic." Megatron replies nonchalantly.

"Yes, frightening laughter would tend to divert your attention." Optimus murmurs to himself as he smiles at the odd change their conversation had taken.

And glancing up after he said it he sees that Megatron's dermas had lifted into a slight smile as he continues writing on his pad. Soon the room goes back to it's usual silence, but Optimus can’t move his digits to type. Another curious subroutine takes over his low-level archivist upgrade.

"Megatron?” He calls out tentatively, “You asked for protomatter, but not Vector Sigma. Why not?"

Looking up from another one of his sweeping essays Megatron's expression screams of playfulness.

"I would assume at your age, and being who you are, you would know some of the intricacies of producing a new spark by other means." Megatron says as his dermas pull into a salacious smirk.

Even though he had a feeling Megatron would say something like that Optimus is sure his face was navy in embarrassment still. And the Decepticon's smooth deep chuckle didn’t help with the awkwardness. Ducking his helm, hoping his visor cap hides his face, Optimus wishes he had sat at the end of the table today if only so he didn't need to be so near when the teasing began.

"You do make the most remarkably expressive faces, but I digress. We have plenty of bonded pairs, quite a few hoping to be creators after the War and still do. And I’m sure you know manually developing a protoform is extremely dangerous......"

Looking up from under his cap at the pause he is struck by how distraught Megatron looks as he stares at the table.

With a near silent vent he says softly, "Though that has not stop a few from being hopeful."

The gentle statement is even more poignant with Optimus feeling the faint wisps of distress in Megatron's field and how his shoulders rested more instead of being held taut and tall. Optimus knows he couldn’t truly emphasize, but it must be excruciating to be the leader of a nation and for some to die from something he couldn't hope to obtain to stop it. Then in a blink it’s gone and Megatron is back to his imposing stoic self.

"I’m sorry. I never would have thought..." Optimus trails off at a lost for words.

"No. You would not have given it a nanoklik." He adds just as quietly.

And he was right. Optimus would have never thought about how Decepticons would repopulate.

While their technofauna was self-sufficient, Cybertronians were not.

Every Cybertronian had a gestation tank, but regardless of health, it was incapable of safe continuous usage. It could be used, but for an unknown reason only 30% of carriers and sparklings would survive the emergence. It was a mystery that continued to baffle the medical community and why protomatter was so heavily regulated, given time to replenish before being mined in doses. It was only luck that the Sonic Canyons were discovered and with them Ancient Cybertron was able to safely boost their population and go on to colonized the Hadeen System.

Hearing that some Cybertronians were back to this lottery of creating a compatible unit left Optimus feeling more determined than ever to help.

He knew what it was like to lose one.

He didn't want to leave just yet, but Ratchet knew he couldn't just tell Ultra Magnus to shove his commands up his aft and pass the pole that was already there. He was needed and despite wanting to be a medic and carer first he had to be a solider. Sighing wearily, he helps Bulkhead and Bumblebee finish loading the last of the energon he would need for the three solar cycle jump they were taking to Opulus. Ultra Magus had build up a force to take back the planet and then the whole Viburnum System, staring that campaign as soon as they heard that the _Steelhaven_ had taken off from Earth. Now they needed Omega to make the final push as the Autobots had been successfully holding the new ground they had taken back.

_And it's always the same._

Ratchet thinks to himself tiredly. He was getting too old for this, but this time he wasn't letting Omega go down. Not this time. And he wouldn't let him end up like _Steelhaven_ again.

"And that's the last of it docbot." Bumblebee says as he places the last cube down.

"Yeah. And I checked Omega's systems too," Bulkhead adds with a little smile, "He'll be fine and you and Sari might even get to Opulus sooner."

He hopes Sari never hears that because then she'll want to come back that much sooner and sadly that's not how it works in the army.

"Thank you Bulkhead. We both appreciate it."

"It was nothing," He says, brushing off the praise. Then starts to fidgeting, looking between him and Bumblebee, before saying softly, "Just... Please stay safe out there and ... well —"

"Kick some skidplates too!" Bumblebee pipes up with a too wide grin, wavering at it's sides and Ratchet can feel a small amount of distress in Bumblebee's field. And then the grin falls flat as he folds his arms and looks to the ground, "We're... we're uh... gonna miss you here, Ratchet."

Before Ratchet can say any well wishes back he hears the doors opening behind him. Turning around, he sees Optimus and Prowl walking towards them with Sari perched on Prowl's pauldron, leaning against his helmet and wiping away her tears. Seeing that made it all the more real because Sari didn't hide how she felt and she was very good at pulling emotions out of others. Turning away he rubs at his optics to release some of the tension he was feeling at having to leave his team of buck-wild younglings. He had seen them mature since that faithful solar cycle, but it was still hard to say good bye for now, especially in war, because this could be the last time he sees them before his end.

"Everything's ready to go Prime." Bulkhead tells Optimus quietly.

"Keep safe out there you two," Prowl tells him as he gently moves Sari, but she doesn't go without one more hug to his face.

"I didn't think we would have to split up this soon," Sari grumbles before going to hug Bumblebee around his neck and him squeezing her as tight as he could, "I was hoping I could stay with all you guys a little bit longer."

"I know Sari, but you agreed that if you came along you would stay with Ratchet." Optimus tells her softly, looking just as upset as her.

"I know, I know. It just sucks."

When Sari had begged and actually made a good case for why she should come with them into an active war-zone Optimus and Prowl made her promise she would stay with Ratchet at all times. This way she would be with a medic and with the bot with the most firepower. Back when it seemed like they were going to be together it hadn't seemed so bad for the teenager. But now...

"Ratchet," Pulling him out of his melancholy thoughts he looks up to Optimus, "Stay safe out there. I know its not the first war, but..."

"Yeah," Ratchet nods in agreement, understanding what the Prime couldn't say, "Not everyone's lucky twice. We'll be fine - I'll be fine kid. I promise," And stepping closer and pointing a digit at him Ratchet says, "And you be safe too Prime. Don’t let them bully you." 

And with a bittersweet smile he nods, understanding just who 'they' were, "I won’t."

That doesn't stop the overwhelming worry that sits in Ratchet's tanks at the thought of Megatron possibly finding out about Optimus' origins.

"I’m serious. Don’t let them," Ratchet says in his usually gruff way, "They’ll hold stuff over you and try to bend your cables so you’ll do it yourself, but... but remember you have friends that will fight for you. Just you." And he can see Prowl and Bulkhead nod along.

"Ratchet ... Thank you," Optimus pauses, turning away shyly, "I don’t want it to come to that, but thank you." 

Giving him a comforting pat turns into a hug and then a group hug with Bulkhead almost crushing all his old joints. With one final goodbye he and Sari board Omega as he powers up his plasma dynamic thrusters.

"I'M GOING TO MISS THEM. WILL WE SEE OUR TEAM AGAIN SOON?" Omega rumbles as he pulls away from the docking bay.

"I miss them already too big guy," Sari sighs as she sadly pats the control panel she's sitting on, "But I know we'll see them again. Right Ratchet?"

Looking towards her he sees a light smile, but can feel her strong determination to make it a reality in her weak field. And despite everything Ratchet finds himself more hopeful than he thought at seeing his team again.

"Yeah. We'll see them again. It's impossible to break up a good team." He tells her as he finishes putting in the coordinates Ultra Magnus had passed onto him.

Sari smiles at that and the ship around them gives a pleased rumble and Ratchet does his best to smile, hoping this time around he's right.

"Megatron."

If the grimace Ultra Magnus wore didn't tell Megatron that he wasn't pleased to see him sitting in his chair then his tone did. Just for that Megatron leans back making himself even more comfortable in said chair.

"Ultra Magnus."

Just on the peripheral of his vision Megatron can see a fiery glare directed at him from a certain Prime for acknowledging the Magnus' full name. With an indiscernible shake of his head Megatron goes back to listening to whatever drivel Ultra Magnus was coughing up. Catching the end of it he was able to equated that the Magnus now needed the _Steelhaven_ back because they have the plans for a break through one of the strongholds and need the craft for the final advantage.

"I need my second and our gestalt team back in play." He ends with a solemn nod to Sentinel Prime, and Megatron can only imagine how painful it was to say that.

"You're lucky that we are nearing our rendezvous with my generals. Tell me Ultra Magnus, will you be recalling everyone?" Megatron asks, which would be typical for an Autobot.

Offer something only to snatch it away citing something silly and archaic ruling.

"No. If I could, on behave of the Autobot Commonwealth's position in the treaty, and my own trust and faith in him, I would like to place Optimus Prime under your charge. He would be the liaison between us as no one else has had as much recent experience with the Decepticons as him. Is that agreeable Megatron?"

_He can't be serious!_

Megatron thinks to himself, mystified by the request.

Looking towards Blitzwing he sees his calm face struck scandalized and turning back to Ultra Magnus he sees his expression shows no signs of jesting and Megatron knows that he was serious. Glancing at Optimus, his optics had widen in knowing horror and Megatron isn't the least bit surprise that he understood the cultural aspect of what his fool of a Magnus has just done. More frustrating though was after the horror slips off Optimus' faceplates it seems that he was all that upset. Megatron was expecting the same ire as he showed with him, but instead he sees resigned acceptance. 

A sacrificial aluminium lamb if Megatron had ever seen one. It seemed Ultra Magnus had daunted even this Autobot into some sort of submission too. A pity... but likely an opportunity to his unfinished plans.

_Your lost Magnus._

"I see no problem with these arrangements Ultra Magnus of Ambustus Minor. I will take charge of the offered Autobot Prime." He answers primly.

"And I agree wholly on your behalf, Ultra Magnus of Ambustus Minor." Optimus says softly, his head bowed responding in the correct course of this action.

Ultra Magnus does take a moment to look at them oddly, not realizing what he just sentenced his Prime to, before carrying on, "Excellent. Now —"

"Are you serious?!"

"Bumblebee!" Optimus hisses looking between his yellow teammate and the Magnus with a frightened expression.

"Private Bumblebee, it was Optimus Prime's plan. He should take the helm and —"

"Well I'm sure as Pit not going to leave him out in the middle of Decepticon space alone," Bumblebee cuts the Ultra Magnus off with a level of ferocity he sees in most of his Decepticons, "And don't expect me to show up to the battlefield without him either. He's the bossbot and he's the only one I'd listen to." He finishes with a huff.

"Bumblebot not listen to anyone." The green minibot says lightly.

"Not now Wasp."

"I agree with Bumblebee, sir," And the ninjabot that took off his arm steps pass the bickering minis to stand in front of the Magnus daringly, "If you do not require anything more than Sentinel Prime and his team I think I speak for my own team when I say we would must rather follow after Optimus. He was the one to be there for us and have us grow into the team we are now."

"If that is your decision?"

With a resounding 'yes' from most of Optimus' team Ultra Magnus actually has a ghost of a smile, "You have a very loyal team Optimus Prime."

"Yes, I do sir." Optimus replies, looking grateful to his team.

"Sir, if you don't mind, I think I'm going stick around with OP's crew for awhile too." The other cyber-ninja suddenly adds, turning around in his chair just enough to grin in the other ninja's direction.

"What?! No!" Sentinel Prime shouts as he stomps down towards the cyber-ninja, "You're a part of my team Jazz. You can't just leave when you want!"

"Actually," Ultra Magnus cuts in, thankfully putting a stop to that squawking, "I can see this as another way to show the Autobots' still not behind this plan that it will work. To have the presence of the Elite Guard there could be crucial. Megatron are you against this?"

Looking to Optimus he sees him silent and still, more like a figurine then the fiery mech he was. Megatron knew why he was acting in such a way, but if he wanted to keep this mech's passionate attitude alight a bit longer he would need to put up with a few more Autobots. He knew he didn't have a definitive reason to curry to Optimus' well-being, but he held too many connections that Megatron could not pass up the opportunity. Luckily, he was just given some incentive to help with it.

"I think I can allow it," Megatron decides, "They're so small the only problem is them getting underpede. And since they're loyal to a more earnest bot I don't have to worry about any deceit from you." And smirks at the furrowed frown from the Magnus.

"Hey! Show Ultra Magnus some respect!" Sentinel Prime shouts at him.

Barely glances at him Megatron raises an optic ridge and the structless Prime's fierce expression drops for a more appropriate scared one. With that quelled he looks back to see the Magnus rubbing at his optics as Blitzwing attempts to hide stilted chuckles.

"Very well. Sentinel Prime I need the flagship at these coordinates in three solar cycles. To the rest of you, good luck."

With strident salutes and 'Yes sir's' the Magnus signed off leaving Megatron with a few more Autobots than he expected.

Staring through the expansive glass of the _Kalis' Lament' _s deck window Optimus' spark ache as the white and blue of the _Steelhaven_ fades into the distant.

He felt so alone.

Even with his team here he was alone. Even more so now. He had told Ratchet not to worry about him. He told his grandcarrier not to worry about him, that he would see him soon, and yet he lied. Optimus can't imagine the devastation Alpha Trion will be going through when he finds out what happened. And Optimus doesn't know what he could even say if he's ever allowed to make contact again.

"The _Talon_ has been assigned as the new flagship for your use my lord. Ve will be in range in half a decacycle." Comes a rumbling accented voice.

Hearing the femme walk towards him Optimus tilts his head back to an uncomfortable degree and sees General Strika of Kalis. Optimus is stuck between genuine horror like he had for when he first saw Megatron and starstruck excitement at meeting the most formidable unconquerable General of Destruction. Her battle plans and expertise brought Autobot battalions to their knees. Her command of a battlefield was amazing and part of Optimus wished to speak with her plainly about that. But the glower she was giving him, enhanced by the low light, left a lot to be said.

"Interesting," Sounding anything but as her gaze narrowed even more, "This is who they gave you?" She asks.

"Don't be too underwhelm. His short stature is deceptive." Megatron 'compliments' him.

Glaring at him for a few more nanoklik she huffs 'We'll see', and steps down into the crew pit to supervise the Deceptions running her ship. He knew she was trying to intimated him, it was apart of every Decepticons playbook, but Optimus couldn't — wouldn't be frightened by scare tactics. He was in their world now and couldn't let the lost in translation situation throw him off.

"He is not distressing to look at, but is that all he has to offer?" A voice to his left says and Optimus can feel himself heat at the sheer thought of what they were implying, "Not that that is not enough my liege." They add lightly.

Chancing a glance he optics widen as he recognizes Air General Scrash. A legend in his own right, both infamous and famous. His aerial raids in both the War of the Waves and the Omnitron Campaign had the Autobots losing Antilla and almost losing Omnitron. And if his skills in battle weren't ruthless enough his blitzkriegs on Cybertron were just as calculated and deadly. The one he led on Iacon, the Heavy Bombardment, was used as a cover to hide his bigger plan of attacking and killing off most of the Council. Only four members from the original council survived and Optimus could not thank the universe enough that his grandcarrier was spared as he had rushed to the Hall to protect the Archives.

The shiver of fear is unconscious, but it is not unseen.

While Scrash raises an optic ridge at him Strika huffs behind him, stepping out of the crew pit to loom over him again, "As of now I’m not impressed."

"Autobot," And turning to Megatron, seated in the commander's chair at the beginning of the command walkway, Optimus sees his sharkitcon grin in the violet lighting, "Do you know what duties you would be preforming now that you are, as your Magnus put it, 'under my charge'?"

The usual response about his name is at the tip of his glossa, but he holds it back. There were more hostiles then Optimus could ever hope to handle and the safest choice now was to act native. 

"If this was the Southern Expanse during the Nexus Period, I would be seen as a Token," He recites calmly, "An offering between our two warring states, given in hopes of cementing a bond and allowing the access to help or to ensure the safe surrender of the presenting party. I would be under pain of your rules to offer whatever ... whatever services you wish," Optimus bites out, harsh and bitter, unable to meet Megatron's satisfyingly smug expression any longer.

Strika looks faintly surprised before looking away from him, "At least he has a processor. You might not bore of him."

And it makes Optimus' energon boil. Megatron was trying to show him off, as if he was nothing more than a prize. And while he was considered nothing more than that it didn’t mean he had to be demure about it. 

"But this isn't the Southern hemi or three billion stellar cycles ago," Optimus speaks up, "We aren't bound to those rules. Ultra Magnus had no idea what he was pledging and if he did —"

"It does not matter now," Scrash snaps as he quickly makes his way across the bridge, "And I believe those that practice such traditions should be the only ones to say whether or not it is in affect."

But Optimus just returns his glare and stays silent. Roughly taking a hold of his face the Air General tilts it up painfully as he leans down, "Unlike Autobots, we Warframes keep our traditions alive. One such tradition is respect.”

"Leave him be Scrash. I have plans for him," Megatron tells him, a hard edge to his tone.

Scrash obeys, but still pushes him away making Optimus' neck cables pinch. Rubbing at them to soothe the pain, he turns to Megatron, who stares back with an impassive stare.

"You will mostly be regulated to the treaty," Megatron tells him, distaste still surrounding the word treaty, "But the rest of the time you will be coordinating with my generals such as, Strika and Scrash, or with Intelligence on the oddness of your military's strategies. You seem to have a knack for creating problems. I want you to do the same for our would-be invaders."

* * *

Giving his word to help in any way Optimus was promptly dismissed to his temporary quarters near the rest of his team. Surprisingly, he was escorted by the General of Destruction herself. He had wondered why she had volunteered, but the moment they started walking he soon found out why.

"You vill also not be allowed to set pede on any Autobot ship. And you vill be accompanied into an Autobot camp only with a Decepticon solider present." She tells him bluntly leaving no room for any arguments.

"Yes General Strika." He says obediently and then waits to see if there were any other rules.

"Excellent," She intones.

And as she stays silent after that Optimus assumed that would be the end of their one side discussion, that is until they take an elevator - honestly it was more like a service elevator because of its size - down a few levels.

"I hope you are aware that Lord Megatron was being merciful in allowing your team here. He didn't need to indulge you, and not many would, but he seems to find you curious."

"I am, but I'm here to fulfill a duty," Optimus replies, "even if I have to work around these archaic rules, I will."

He finial sensors only give him a split nanoklik to know somethings coming at him. Turning towards the sensation Optimus finds himself slammed into the wall with a tight grip on his shoulder and surrounded by a wrathful EM field. Looking up his entire vision is filled with furious red optics.

"Do not think for a moment that because you are now Lord Megatron’s means you are free to do and speak as you please. You are not one of the Prized bonded of Kalis nor a Snared mate from Tarn. More importantly, you are _not_ a Chosen sparkmate of Kaon. Therefore, you are not awarded the same rights," Stepping back, but still effectively looming over him threateningly she says lowly, "You. Were. Given."

And Optimus already knew that but hearing its just a slap to the faceplates, a stark reminder of the harsher reality he had ahead for himself. One he couldn't be saved one.

"You may know some of our culture, but you have not lived it," Strika hisses balefully, "Upset or disobey my lord and I will see to your isolation and that your team is left on the nearest Autobot control planet. The few left that are left that is. And if you step out of line in anyway that I view as treasonous you will cease. Understand?" 

"Crystal." He replies quietly.

Stepping back the doors open and Strika once again leads the way as Optimus follows her silently the rest of the way. Went he was left alone he messaged his team that he had been given a room and would plan to meet up later. As the flurry of messages come through Optimus silence them as he surveys his room. It had a basic berth, that was at least twice as big as any berth Optimus had ever seen and only one side table next to it. Running the length of the berth was an alcove that looked like a perfect space for weapons. While this was probably meager for a Decepticon solider, the size could easily be converted into a nice size apartment in Iacon's Central District.

Unpacking the loose datapads he had stored in subspace and setting them in the side table drawer Optimus then crawls across the berth to gently places his microlight projector in the alcove. And then for good measure, and safety, his axe too. With that down he quickly skims his messages as he scrolls to the bottom before telling everyone he would be over to the room Bulkhead, Bumblebee, and Wasp were assign in about a megacycle.

He just needed time to himself now. He couldn't let his team see him like this. 

Siting back in the corner of the berth, Optimus sucks in an unneeded amount of air as he squeezes and tightens his servos into fists, trying to calm the oncoming storm. Pushing up against the wall he feels the strain and tension building around his joints and plating. His systems hating it, but Optimus focused on it, used it to recognize the fact that he was present. He lets the deep vent out and his engine wheezes as he tries to quell the growing processor ache and sense of dread at his situation.

How was he supposed to do this? Why was it all on his shoulders? Would he even be able to? Megatron might have been accommodating when he was on the _Steelhaven_, but Optimus was in his world now, literally, who knows what could happened? And even though Megatron said he didn't want more than his work on tactics what if he changed his mind? What if he wanted — 

Slamming his helm back against the wall Optimus' engine whining as he hiccups and sputters, unable to vent properly.

He couldn't think of a way out of the hole he found himself in.

He didn't know what to do.

It all seem so hopeless.

Jumping slightly at an insistent itch he felt Optimus was instantly overcome with the sensation that he was standing in front of exocrystal as he was engulf in warmth. The love comes next in a force that punches his vents open to cool his overheating frame.

Regulating his systems again Optimus comes to a wonderful conclusion.

_Rodimus!_

Optimus smiles, but it soon turns bittersweet as he closes his optics and tries to kept the guilty he's feeling for disrupting his rest, but Rodimus dispels it with a hard jolt of protectiveness and caring. It's like coolant for a overworked engine and the brazenness has Optimus giggling to himself. He can hear how broken it sounded to his own audials, but he ignores it and sends back his own pulse of thankfulness and love.

For once in a very long Optimus sinks into the overwhelming waves of tenderness and serenity that Rodimus begins to send back letting him know he wasn't completely alone, even though it felt like the universe was against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much stuff!!! I have delivered angst, culture clash, and more snippets of Optimus’ past! Enjoy them while you wait for the next chapter ღゝ◡╹)ノ☆
> 
> Fun Fic Trivia! Cultural Points!  
_Prized_ — Warriors or others of high esteem would competed for healthy/strong bots of their choice. Some will also fight the bot of their affection and in winning able to have them. Still remains the same today for the displaced Decepticons of Kalis.  
_Snared_ — Full on setting of traps for the bot that grabbed his or hers optics. Practices changed after the third Cybertronian War. Now its a blend, catching the bot and then courting through battle of wits and strength. If they match well and stay together for two stellar cycles they then go on to being bonded Conjunx.  
_Chosen/Claimed_ — Literally raided and kidnapped their mates during battles or scouting from other tribes and then woo and show off their skills. Being listless showed sign of weakness and unable to adapt and they were let go. After cities started to be settled, Kaonians simply declared a claim to the bot they were enamored with and then presented gifts to woo and show off their knowledge of the bot. They will also fights off suitors to win them over. This ritual last for a stellar cycle and the recipient of the claim can denied it at anytime after the year. But if the claimed bot does not denied the claim the couple will bond.


	9. (“Initiative”);

Striding down the hall, Blackarachnia's pedes clack loudly against the duratanium floor as her weak EM field extends to its furthest reaches, broadcasting her sharp and twisting anger. It's the only warning she was giving and for the most part mechas got out of her way. One grunt didn't get the memo and she promptly shoved him through a nearby wall with the strength she had stolen from Octane in preparation for this hunt. She needed to make her way to deck seven before her prey got away. He had unknowingly evaded her for three solar cycles, but she had him now.

Turning the corner, Blackarachnia sees Optimus walking out of the Sensor Suite and she sprints towards him, snatching ahold of his wrist, turning around, and storming back the way she came until she sees a random door. Just about punching the keypad open she drags Optimus inside and finding a chair in the darkness pushing him towards it as she goes for the lights. Except she uses too much strength as the button craters into the wall and creates a series of spiderweb cracks, but the room is bathed in low light so she doesn’t care and it wasn't her biggest concern right now.

"You _slagging_ idiot!"

"Blackarachnia."

"No!" She shouts, turning around on her heels.

The gentle response, trying to soothe her, only makes her want to punch him harder.

"Nope! No! None of that. There is something so much more important to talk about - like you offering yourself and your virtue up on a platinum platter!" She screams stabbing a claw at his chassis.

"I —" 

"I'm sorry. Partial virtue!" She snaps, her fury at a boiling point.

"Elita!" Optimus gasps as he turns practically navy in humiliation, "Please don't talk —"

"It's Blackarachnia! And do you know how I found out about this?" She cuts him off again, waving her servos at the mess of her ex-friend, "I had to reattach Tripline's servos for some information after all this whispering about Megatron finally getting a Token and that Token being you!"

Optimus' scandalized expression changes to one of bewilderment as his optics narrow trying to understand what she just yelled at him.

"I – I don't understand what that means." He says sounding lost.

"Well you will soon because you're here to stay. Damn it Optimus! Do you – Do you have any idea what you've done?" The fight seeps out of her as she really comes to terms about what has happened.

"Yes. I've read about it." He says quietly.

Her dermas purses into incredulous frown as she gives Optimus a pointed look she knew conveyed her thoughts on that overuse statement. All throughout her time at the Academy Optimus would back something up that he said with 'I read it in _such and such_ log'.

Optimus must recognize her expression because he adopts his signature pouty frown that he always did when he was being teased.

"I did," He defends himself, "I found some written accounts of it in the ancient Archives when I was reading up on some materials for my history courses, like The Culture of City-States and The Tribes of Old."

Rolling her optics, Blackarachnia facepalms.

_Just like you to go over and above._

She didn't know of those courses specifically, but knowing Optimus they were probably some of the extra university courses offered for credit in case a Guard member ever wanted to go into academics.

"I know what is to be... expected of me, but not all the ceremonies documented were like that." 

Scoffing, Blackarachnia folds her arms and fixes him with a disappointed glare.

"But most of them were," She surmises, "Did the small percent that weren't give you some hope that you'd be okay? Because if so this is shaping up to be your dumbest idea and you don't have many of those." She tells him as the anger at his decision starts to build again.

Even more so when he doesn't immediately come to his own rescue and holds his field close. For someone scoring high in search and rescue Optimus sure sucked at it.

"...I didn't ask for it... It was an accident."

"How?!"

Fidgeting Optimus tucks his helm and keeps it down as he harshly rubs at his servos and digits, "...It was inadvertent," He tells her softly.

And already Blackarachnia knows she's going to hate the answer. He was using his soft pitiful 'it's not their fault' voice, which Optimus always adopted when he was explaining away rude behavior that was directed at him.

"It ... some of the words that were used were similar to what was said during one of those Ceremonies." He finishes in a whisper.

Gritting her dentea she snarls, "Who?" 

Optimus whispers it so quietly that the ambient noise of the ship's systems almost swallow it up. But Blackarachnia hears it and it makes her bristle with a new level of rage.

"So let me see if I understand this correctly?" She says slowly, for his benefit and her's so she wouldn't explode, "Ultra Magnus, the Commander of the Autobots, who has priority access to any and all information that he wants, just happens to say enough of the right words that it would be seen as an Offering to any Decepticon that hears? Is that what you're telling me?" Blackarachnia concludes, shaking in fury.

His optics brighten as he looks to her before they dim and he looks away again.

"It could happens," But his voice wavers, "But it doesn't matter. If I had rejected it, even if it was unofficial, a lot more Decepticons would be against this then they could be now. This could be seen as us putting in the effort to understand them." Optimus tells her, but it sounds to her like he was attempting to convince himself.

_So smart, but so dumb!_

Grinding her dentea together, Blackarachnia tries to say her next piece as calmly as she can, "So what? You'll be the shaky bridge between us, wobbling on some millenniums old tradition in hope of some rust stick points via Decepticon pride?"

"If I have too." His answer quick and voice stringent , field buzzing with determination.

She knew it. She knew this was going to be his answer, but it still burned to hear it.

Screaming in frustration she stomps away only to turn back and stalk towards him, "You're too smart to be this dumb and too self-sacrificing for your own good! Optimus, I don't think you know what you've fragging signed up for because you had to be such a good little Autobot," She reaches out to shake him before her servos just rest on his shoulders, "The Autobots aren't going to take you back. Ultra Magnus can't do a damn thing because if he does he'll have a war on two fronts. Don't you understand? You can't get out of this."

And Optimus' expression shifts from worry into something not quite a frown, "I know, but I'll be losing the least," He says in a resigned tone, "And so many more can benefit from —"

"Ah Pits!" Throwing her servos up towards the ceiling before dragging them down her helmet Blackarachnia growls to herself, "You make it so hard to hate you sometimes." 

"... I don't want you too."

Snapping her helm over to that little pitiful voice again Blackarachnia is met with an apologetic expression that would break a weaker spark.

"I want to make this right. I —"

"Optimus," She cuts him off, but this time softly, too tired to scream anymore, "Anything you could have done died off long ago."

"I don't believe it," And he stands from the chair but he doesn't walk any closer, giving Blackarachnia her space, "You've changed true, but you're still you."

_No I'm not._

She wants to punch him. Kick him. Scream at him again. Tell him all the ways that he's wrong and that she wasn't who's she was before. Explain in excruciating detail how vile she had become just so he didn't look at her like nothing had changed.

Like she wasn't an abomination.

Blackarachnia just wants it to stop because Optimus’ hopefulness and optimism was giving her hope too. It was nothing new. All throughout their friendship Optimus would give her looks of faith and help her with whatever she needed. His unerring patience and calm demeanor was something he always had for her and Sentinel when they needed encouragement. And even though it was silly and they joked about it they both still craved that confidence and pride Optimus had in them even when they didn’t.

But hope didn’t get results. Hope didn't make everything go away.

Except it defined who Optimus was and putting himself in this position could strip the mech of everything that made him _him_. Any other time Blackarachnia would have been overjoyed if Optimus was in a horrible situation, but she always envisioned it as a severe injury or being humiliated and ostracized ... But the mere thought of Optimus being broken from following Megatron's beck and call, all because he was rule-abiding self-sacrificing moron, it churned something horrible in her tanks. 

No one deserved that.

"... If... If that happens... I keep some vials of my venom in my lab that I use for testing."

And she doesn't know what she trying to say, or why, but she lets the words slip from her dermas. And in the silence Optimus’ dermas lift into a small smile and it seems like enough.

"I won't need it, but thank you. I do appreciate it." He tells her, tone grateful.

"How do you know?" Some of her desperation seeping into her question.

"He said he wouldn’t."

"And you trust him?"

“No," Optimus assures her quickly, "But I know he wants something. And he wouldn’t want to ruin his chances at whatever it is."

Shaking her helm in disbelief Blackarachnia rubs at her optics tiredly. She didn't want to deal with any of this and she didn't want to care either. Yet for some reason she still did and wasn't that just perfect for the grudge she was trying to hold onto.

"....Blackarachnia. I want – need – you to know that I didn't want to leave you behind," Frowning she drags her helm up to see Optimus' servos fidgeting and face twisted up in a mournful display, "I just didn't want to lose both of you... And I ended up losing everything."

"Optimus I... I don't need this right now," Wishing she was in her room so she could take off her helmet and massage her helm, "My solar cycle is already a mess without heaping this onto the smelter-fire of our past lives."

"Of course."

And he looks away defeated, but Blackarachnia still catches that sad cyberhound look that Optimus does. Even though he doesn't know he does it, it's still good at making her feel guilty even after all these stellar cycles. Glowering at him, she taps her pede incessantly, thinking, as she watches this sad mech before rolling her optics.

_I already suggested committing treason so why not._

Sighing heavily she goes with, "Not now."

Optimus' helm snaps up and it's like watching a sunrise as his expression brightens into a hesitant smile. Despite her vagueness it seems like it was the perfect answer for him and it would be the best answer he could hope for because Blackarachnia didn't plan on being in his sights much longer.

But that didn't mean she wouldn't be watching him.

Megatron had meant it when he said he had no desire to practice the traditions of his ancestors. Not only was it a different time, but his carrier had impressed an almost idyllic, if not gruff, expectation of how to be a true leader and proper gentlemech. Forcing or coercing one into his berth was vehemently not the way to instill respect, at least in his ideology. And as the Emperor of Destruction his way was the only one that mattered.

Right now Optimus was mostly serving as an aid to his Intelligence and himself, making him little more than a secretarybot.

And what a disgruntle secretary he was.

Much more fiery than a daunted Token, which Megatron preferred any solar cycle, Optimus was methodical and succinct about his work. His Decepticons', less so. They ranged from prompt to extremely lazy in their work ethic and the cultural differences didn't help either. Throughout it all Optimus' patience was constantly tested, mostly by Megatron himself by being particularly difficult for the enjoyment of it. Watching Optimus attempt to not be vexed in front of others was a thing of beauty as he would visibly vibrate in fury, yet he kept a mild expression all the while. Megatron had even seen him squeeze the sides of a datapad so tight it left digit-prints along the sides as Optimus held his glossa about his thoughts on the proper use and importance of weapons at the meeting table.

Though Megatron quickly found that while Optimus held his glossa in public he still made his opinions expressively and irritatingly known.

Any and all digital messages Megatron had received were charged with snide little comments at the end that Megatron could easily hear in Optimus' voice. And though Optimus was modest and cautious for anyone else Optimus' EM field touted his self-satisfied mood when he had to remind Megatron of anything and it irked him to no end. The only saving grace the Autobot possessed was that he kept his face neutral when doing so.

And if it wasn't the messages there were the alarm alerts Optimus sent him as reminders.

It was as if he had set off a bombing siren in Megatron's helm. It always left him lividly scanning for the brightly colored mech, and finding him Megatron would turn a withering glare at Optimus only for him to look up with his doe-eye innocence and ask in a harmless manner, ‘Do you require anything Lord Megatron?’. 

So while Optimus found ways to annoy him every so often Megatron knew he had the upper servo in the back and forth they played, easily eliciting emotional responses from the resolute Autobot.

Like now.

Walking into the War Room, it was abuzz with Shockwave's subordinates working through the data they gathered. Acknowledging Shockwave's presence Megatron was unconcern to see his diligent spy here before them.

Before Optimus Prime, Megatron made a habit of showing up to his meetings tardy. He wasn’t late, but he did appear a few cycles after the appointed time, the terrified waiting made it easier for those in attendance to listen. But with Optimus Prime, Megatron's prompt response was the only thing keeping the infernal alarms from being sent over –_ which bypass his security! _– no doubt Optimus’ archiving coding at work. Megatron could have had Scalpel fix such a problem, but he had forgone it and welcomed the fact his soldiers seemed more on edge when he was there before them.

And yes, Megatron was entirely ignoring _who_ caused this development.

Coming to a stop at the war table Megatron was once again reminded of Optimus' Autobot status, as it was situated for a much taller class of bot. In comparison he looked particularity petite standing next to it. Megatron knew he couldn't see down the full length of the holo-table, so out of the 'generosity' of his spark he helped the Autobot by lifting him onto the edge of the table. 

Placing his servos on Optimus' lithe hips and defined waist – barely exercising any strength – Megatron lifts the light mech.

With a gasp, Optimus grasp onto Megatron’s wrists at the sudden movement. Undeterred, he moves the Autobot to the edge of the table and sets him down within reach of a set of controls. His faceplates deepens to an indigo as he struggles to keep optic contact as bafflement and embarrassment jumps around his field. 

"W-Why?" Optimus stutters as Megatron lets go of his hips.

"You couldn’t see." Megatron tells him plainly, which seems to ignite his face further.

"There must of been another way.” Optimus says quietly as he turns away, shyness permeating his field in excess.

Gently taking hold of the Autobot’s face, Megatron tilts it up to get his attention. Leaning in, Optimus' field drops dramatically and he goes abnormally still as he stares back at Megatron, optics impossibly wide.

"Without having you look discomfited standing on the tips of your pedes. I don't believe so," He says serenely before giving him a mischievous smile, "Besides, I had assumed you enjoyed it when I held you last, my Little Autobot."

He receives no answer except for instant outrage snapping in Optimus’ field and then his dermas pulling up into one of his amusing little pouts.

Grinning at the reaction, Megatron taps his thumb against the side of Optimus’ audial bolt just to see him squirm before letting go and turning to his spy. The glare Shockwave has fixated on Optimus is a familiar scene now, the one-sided hate like burning ozone.

"Shockwave. What do you have to report?"

Blinking rapidly and looking towards him his spy bows and begins his briefing on the Autobots' progress. In short order Optimus starts to studiously take notes of this meeting and relaying them questions from the Autobot Generals Dai Atlas and Star Saber while they were heading offensive campaigns in the other systems.

While a Decepticon-Autobot offensive had not been enacted yet the consensus was for the Autobots to hold the Hadeen and Victory Systems. Meanwhile the smaller forces of remaining Autobots would receive assistance from the Decepticons to take back the lost systems and slowly but surely have the Qidried fighting them on two fronts and pinch them out in a final glorious battle.

Now that Megatron had the entirety of his armada mobilized it was the time to discuss the first system for this immense endeavor. Though the Autobots were still discussing among themselves which system needed the most immediate help based on working space bridges as well as how possible it would be to set up bases on neutral uninhabited worlds in nearby systems to send out attacks from there.

"They've come to an agreement," The 'finally' Optimus left out was heard by everyone, "Ultra Magnus has weighted in and said the Vespa System should —"

'Priority Alert from Autobot Intelligence,' Rumbles the _Talon's_ AI, Empirion, before pulling up a vid screen over the war table. 

A crimson horned minibot shows up with a frown so deep that he looks eons older than what Megatron assumes he is.

"Optimus Prime. Traitor... ," Then the Autobot's faceplates twist into a vicious scowl as he focuses on him.

"Buckethead." The Autobot grouses.

All noise comes to a halt as his soldiers freeze to either glare at the screen or watch his response.

"I would have hoped that the Autobots would be well behaved in this fragile time," Raising a ridge at the Autobot as he spoke in a grave tone, "Such as addressing me first and not presenting such a derogatory attitude to your rescuers. I am willing to overlook this single mistake with you stating my designation and my correct title."

The frown he was sporting curls up more, disfiguring his already sour face, as he physically shakes. It was amusing to see the minibot struggle to say anything before dragging out the most spiteful 'Lord Megatron' he had ever hear in his function. But the discomfit and rage the minibot was obviously feeling has Megatron easily overlooking.

With a noncommittal hum Megatron gets to the point as this mech wasn't going to, "What it the matter of this call?"

"We have an agent who has been made and is attempting to get to the drop point at Space Bridge 884-346. He's out pacing the Qidried ship now, but our forces are unable to reach him in time. Your fleet is close by and would have the firepower to extract him." The intelligence agent relays before sending them an image of a blue racer model.

A punched out vent of heat and an unsettled field takes his attention and Megatron is caught unprepared for Optimus accidentally kicking him in his side as he turns around and moves up the table to see the screen better.

"Blurr?" Optimus abruptly gasp, "He's online? How?"

Raising an optic ridge at his upended Token, Megatron can tell the unnerved EM is not from him, his is alight with elation and relief.

"Is he truly that important?" Megatron asks, trying to gauge the worth of sending _The Rouge_ to retrieve the Autobot.

The question leaves the crimson minibot steaming, ready to blow a fuse and gearing up to yell, but Shockwave steps forward in an oddly hurried way.

"That I can assure you of my liege," He says gently, but with an edge of trepidation in his tone and it tells Megatron everything he needs to know, "Agent Blurr is one of the best."

"Hate to agree, but the traitor is right," The minibot speaks up, "Any intel Blurr collected will be crucial for our first joint attack. That I can guarantee. But you should probably install a lexicon compressor code before meeting him. You'll needed."

"Blurr!" And Bumblebee launches himself at the speedster sending them both crashing onto the floor of the docking tube, "You're online!"

Optimus isn't surprised by the enthusiastic response though. Since telling his team about Blurr's recovery everyone was excited to hear he was well, including Jazz. He had apparently been a mentor to the speedster when he was going through his internships with the Intelligence Guild and later a lead investigator for some of Blurr's missions.

"Yes-I-am-online," Blurr quickly agrees as he sits up, returning Bumblebee's tackling hug with a fast set of pats to his shoulder, "The-space-bridge-merely-sent-me-to-Ayrton,-Aouda-Fogg's-singular-moon,-which-following-the-trajectory-of-known-transwarp-flow-patterns-throughout-our-galaxy-and-the-Decepticon-made-bridge-was-set-for-Cybertron-but-with-no-receiving-code-it-is-a-perfect-assumption-that-I-would-end-up-somewhere-harmless,-in-neutral-territory,-or-friendly-territory."

It takes a nanoklik for Optimus to replay what Blurr said, but when he does he can't argue with the logic of his statement.

"True, but let's just say we weren't really reasoning out your location at the time."

"Yeah, how would you feel if someone got sucked into a Space Bridge with no destination set," Bumblebee huffs crossing his arms and turning his helm away in a dramatic fashion, "So sorry for being concern that you fell into a blackhole or a electro-storm or whatever."

"I-understand-that. I-was-simply-stating-that-while-your-concern-is-well-placed-it-wasn't-completely-needed,-but-I-am-happy-you-cared." Blurr tries to placate Bumblebee, but he just looks away to his left this time with a exaggerated pout.

"Of course Blurr," Optimus tells him as he steps forward to help the both of them up before comming _The Rouge_, "Checkpoint. We're clear of the airlock you can detach."

"Super! I was just about to tell you we've got another mission on our servos so we've got to go! Go! Go!" Checkpoint trills excitedly before going serious, "We're going dark so do not expect any updates for awhile. Shockwave should already be aware." And cuts the transmission leaving Optimus to just shake his helm at the Triple-Changers' rapid changing emotions.

"Good," Bumblebee says in a chiding tone, still pouting, "Because I don't care about a lot of bots so you _should_ count yourself lucky."

Optimus tries to hold back a smile at the minibot's strongbot persona though at the quiet clicks of dentea and a 'Yeah right' from behind him has Optimus chuckling. Looking back he sees Jazz strolling around the corner, but without his signature grin. With a frown he nods back behind him, letting him know that Shockwave was on his way. Noticing Jazz as well Blurr speeds over and the cyber-ninja sweeps him up in a hug and spins him around.

"Good to see y'ah again speed demon." Jazz exclaims, smiling.

"Also that's so unfair," Bumblebee mumbles under his exvent, "When I randomly warped away I got eaten by a Rock Lord."

"What?" Blurr gawks as he looks between all of them and then Bumblebee up and down for any proof.

"A lot happened right after you disappeared," Optimus smiles ruefully, "But we're just glad you're okay. How did you make it back to Cybertron?"

"I-ran. You-would-be-surprised-by-the-amount-of-debris-is-between-Aouda-Fogg-and-Cybertron."

At first Optimus thought he had heard incorrectly as what Blurr had said didn't computed and was just out of this galaxy. But as Jazz stifles a laugh and Blurr looks towards them sincerely Optimus' jaw drops.

"I'm not even goin' to question that my mech 'cause knowin' you it's very possible," Jazz says with a light punch to his shoulder, "I've seen you tearin' it up on Velocitron to know." 

"Whoa," And looking down he sees Bumblebee staring at Blurr in pure awe, "So cool — I mean! Uh yeah right... But like seriously?"

"I have found it best not to question this one aspect as I doubt it would make sense even if I knew."

Optimus' plating crawls at not being able to tell, once again, when the lithe Decepticon was around. Turning to face him he sees he was not alone.

"The sense of mystery is quite interesting." He says tonelessly as he stared intently at Blurr, like he knew him.

Though being the former Head of Cybertron Intelligence it was possible he had met Blurr a couple times.

"Blurr, this is Shockwave. Head of Decepticon Intelligence. And Tripline is Deputy Head." Gesturing to the spindly beige, black, and grey colored mech just behind Shockwave.

As Tripline raises a servo to wave all the sharp kibble across his sharp body rises up, but his servo makes a ghastly, but now familiar, squeaks and tilts off to the side. Undeterred from greeting them he unspools one of his tentacles to continue waving.

"If there's any intel for the joint ops you will participating in you’ll need to file another report of it to them," Optimus continues but can see the shorter bot is more interested with Tripline's continuous injury.

"Your-servo?" 

"That happens a lot. You get used to it," Tripline replies cheerfully, even waving the broken servo his way so it can creak again.

Slowly nodding, looking unsure, Blurr turns his focus to Shockwave with great scrutiny, "Why-did-you-say-that?"

"Say what exactly?"

"The-comment-you-made-on-my-speed. Most-bots-just-marvel-and-gap-at-it,-but-you-seem-well-verse-in-it-from-your-statement-and-because-of-your-calmness-around-me." Blurr explains tapping his pede impatiently.

"I would hope so after nearly thousand stellar cycles working together." Shockwave tells him cryptically.

"What? Ha! I-would-never-work-with-a-Decepticon, except-now, but-that's-only-because-we-need-to-cooperate-to-keep-us-from-whatever-the-Qidried-have-plan. And-furthermore —"

Quickly Shockwave's electronic paint kicks in and he changes into Longarm and then back into his true self. But the arrogant smirk he has for a brief moment is seen by everyone.

"Excellent points as always Agent Blurr." His 'praise' dripping with sarcasm.

Watching Blurr's optics grow wide and empty, Optimus is reminded of the exact same hollowed look that Bumblebee had when he learned of Shockwave's other identity in the cave. And taking slow and unsteady steps back Optimus can see this affected the younger bot heavily. Blurr was only a few thousand years older than Bumblebee, but had placed the same trust in the Decepticon as well.

"Blurr?" Bumblebee asks calmly, trying to get his attention.

After a few aborted attempts of speaking Blurr's faceplates go from disbelief to stony indifference.

"You’re alive." Blurr says slowly, slower than Optimus had ever heard him speak.

"Yes."

And at the clipped answer Blurr begins to vibrate as his field snaps with anger and hurt before rapidly closing the distance between him and the Decepticon, punching him in the tanks. Surprised by the attack, Shockwave keels over and is at the perfect height for Blurr to slap him, the sound echoing down the corridor. Optimus steps forward to stop the confrontation, but is held back and looking to left sees Jazz shaking his helm 'no'.

"This is something he's gotta do." Is all he whispers.

Venting shallowly, Shockwave turns his helm back looking mildly disappointed, "Blurr you are much more reasonable than that. Understand. Please."

Stunned by the polite request – as was everyone – Blurr almost misses the claw reaching out for him, but he's quicker and dodges the hold for his arm and instead grabs an antler, pulling it down and squeezing it until he hears a grunt of pain.

“I. Mourned. You.” Blurr enunciates lowly and Shockwave's optics becomes a horizontal line of red in surprise, looking like he had been slapped again.

Pushing the antler back harshly as he lets go Blurr turns and speedily closes the gap between them. His whole frame shaking minutely again.

"Optimus-Prime, I-have-vital-information-and-I-think-it-best-if-I-relayed-it-directly-to-Megatron-himself." He says just as swiftly as before with the distress not only felt, but heard this time.

Sparing a glance for the Decepticon getting up behind him, Optimus focuses back on Blurr and their situation, "I think it'd be the best for everyone. Jazz?"

"Agreed." Jazz sneers at Shockwave before leading Blurr away, Bumblebee following at their heels.

Turning back to the Decepticons, Optimus moves to stand between them and his team, seething with the need to protect them. Angered once again by Shockwave’s tactics. He still couldn't get Bumblebee to talk about the obvious problems that were plaguing him that came out of this ruse.

"Wow! I didn’t know the new ones were so violent," Tripline taunts gleefully, "If I had known I might have even become acquaintances with some of them."

"Don't you have work to do?" Shockwave hisses.

"Nothing that can't be finished later," He waves dismissively with his tentacle, "This is so much more entertaining."

"You seemed to be entertained by Blurr or he wouldn't have reacted that violently." Optimus says lowly and quickly Shockwave's glare is on him and Optimus was not intimidated in the least.

"Ooh!" And Tripline claps his tentacle claws and his working servos together as he watches them in excitement.

"We had to work much closer than needed as I was putting multiple plans into motion."

"And he needed to be that close? Sounds suspiciously like you wanted something more."

His antlers pull back as his optic scrunches down dangerously, "It was for the benefit of the Cause so he wouldn't figure out Lord Megatron's plan."

"For the benefit of the —," Scoffing, Optimus rolls his optics, "Is that what Decepticons are calling it these solar cycles?"

"Apparently." Tripline adds helpfully.

"It was a safety measure as Agent Blurr does process matters faster than most of our best computers."

"Wow a compliment too," Tripline smirks knowingly, "What did he do to charm _you._"

Whipping his helm around Shockwave extends his arm out and pins Tripline to the wall, his optic a vertical slit of fury, but the other keeps his devious grin.

"It is nothing because there was nothing," Shockwave emphasizes with a slam to the wall as he says it. Dropping his second and turning his glare back to him, "I had a motive and I executed it perfectly." 

"So that was the only reason?" Optimus asks, unconvinced.

"The only one that mattered."

"And yet some of the unsaid history speaks volumes to something else."

"Our personal history is none of your concern." Shockwave growls.

"At least I know its a personal aspect now." Optimus sneers.

And it turns into a thin smirk when Shockwave’s optic widen and brightens when he realizes his slip up.

"... Astute deduction," Comes the grumbled reply before trying to save himself by standing tall and leaning into his Tarnian accent, "But I will have you know that I never did anything. Professionalism was key."

Grimacing at the display Optimus turns his back on him and walks away, "And yet you hurt him anyway."

"I'm really starting to like that Autobot," Is the last thing he hears from Tripline before he turns the corner.

Halfway to the Command Deck Optimus gets a comm from Bumblebee telling him they were in the Auxiliary Deck. Making up for lost time he drives towards the room with Decepticons actually lifting a leg to make room while others refuse to move and Optimus has to transform and flip out of the way of a few helm-on collisions. Walking into the second bridge he sees Bumblebee and Jazz leaning on either side of the large command chair, and walking around it Optimus sees Blurr curled up in the chair looking absolutely miserable.

"It's okay. He fooled all of us." Bumblebee tells him, trying to comfort Blurr.

"I feel like such an idiot." Blurr answers, his words sounding like they were sticking to pavement with his slower and distressed tone.

"Blurr. You're not." Jazz tells him.

"I-I-thought... I guess it doesn't matter what I thought... he lied to us. To-me! And-I'm-still-so-happy-he's-alive!” Dropping his helm unto his knees his engine whines and hiccups loudly, “They said his murder case was classified. Now I know why....," And sinking further down, "Why?" He begs.

"You loved him mech and love can hurt you," Jazz says gently as he rubs Blurr’s backstructs.

Not denying it, Bumblebee’s eyes widen in shock while Optimus looks away, having come to that same conclusion.

"Blurr," Bumblebee says softly, "You got to remember he’s just good at getting bots to trust him."

And Optimus had seen it in action, how after ‘Longarm’ first contacted them after the update he asked to only speak to Bumblebee. Whatever it was they talked about had the minibot actually writing a few reports and other messages to the Decepticon in disguise. He would bring it up sounding happy he was reconnecting with a friend. In the chaos that followed the aftermath of the Space Bridge collapse Optimus hadn’t thought to asked Bumblebee what he wrote about or how he was feeling about it. Now when he did all he got was side comments from Bumblebee and the minibot trying to steer the conversation in another direction, but this didn't deter Optimus. He was still going to try.

With a mirthless laugh Blurr raises his helm, "Yeah, I'm starting to see that."

"Just forget about him okay. And think about this. He couldn't have kept up with you anyway." Bumblebee says trying to give Blurr an optimistic and helpful smile.

And just like that Blurr starts to crumple in on himself, resting his helm on his folded arms.

"...But I wanted to slow down for him."

Bumblebee backs up a bit looking completely confused by the thought and turns to look between him and Jazz for help.

"Blurr," Optimus says gently to get his attention, "Until we can get you to an Autobot base or ship you'll be here and if you want to work you will be assigned to the Intelligence sector. Will you be okay to work with him? If not, I can —"

Blurr’s helm pops off his arms and he shakes it rapidly, "No — I-mean-yes! No, I'm-not-okay, but-I-am-an-Elite-Guard-agent-and-it-takes-more-than-being-sparkbroken-to-stop-me-from-doing-my-job-with-excellence, sir." Snapping a servo to attention.

"Okay Blurr. I’ll let him know he is to stay away since you'll need time to accommodate, but after that it's up to you," Turning to Jazz he asks, "I’m sure I can count on you to be a buffer."

"Don’t even need to ask." Jazz nods to him.

Looking back to Blurr, "And don't be afraid to tell me if it ever becomes too much, okay?"

Nodding slowly a small smile appears as well, "Thank-you-Jazz. And-thank-you-Optimus-Prime. I-will," Then unfurling himself he slides off the chair and says proudly, "Now-I-have-important-intel-to-pass-onto-Ultra-Magnus-and-Megatron."

Vehicon was the new target of Qidreids and they were closing in on it rapidly. The Decepticons would have to wage a mostly defensive campaign both on the surface and in space since the only ships the Autobot fleet had in that system were freighters, which had heavier plating, but were cumbersome and had simple plasma blasters.

Though defending and keeping this planet hostile-free would be a great advantage and Megatron knew he could twist Ultra Magnus' cables to let his Decepticons have access to the automated factories for their own supplies as a reward. And with a larger presence there they could keep an optic out for saboteurs, though it would likely not be a problem. While the Autobots were cruel or indifferent to non-Autobots they weren't impractical about their supply aid and as tentative allies Optimus had mention that the Council would have to comply to sharing resources.

But Megatron was also wise to Ultra Magnus' tricks and that is why he had gone to Shockwave to ask about the newest list of factories on the mostly cobalt ocean planet so he knew exactly what to demand. Reclining against the wall of Shockwave's office he waited for the spy to finish compiling the factories in alphabetical and importance level for him when an unsuspected guest arrived.

_ **WOOSH!** _

Briskly walking in, Optimus slams a datapad on Shockwave's desk, making him jolt and cringe, and demands a list of forms that Megatron didn't completely catch as Optimus accuses Shockwave of still having access to them. Soundlessly pushing off the wall, Megatron reaches out with the intention to tap Optimus' prominent fins to get his attention. But the Autobot stops short of speaking as they twitch before Optimus turns towards him and the fins bump into Megatron's digits regardless. The action startles him out of his aggressive attitude for a moment before he's glaring up at him. 

"Demanding little Autobot, aren’t you?" Megatron says watching the finial flutter again.

"It's the only way anyone listens to me," Optimus answers before frowning more, "And stop that."

With a disarming smile he asks, "And that would be what?"

"You know what."

"How could I if you don't tell me," He replies with a wicked grin.

Optimus' faceplates tighten around his optics as his field fluctuates in annoyance before he lets out a harsh vent and takes a step back so he was mostly out of Megatron's range. Turning back to Shockwave he asks his question again, "Do you have them or not?"

"I am 'terribly' sorry, but I am currently —"

"Shockwave," And the cyclops turns to him in bewilderment, "I believe you have the ability to give him his forms while continuing your work."

"Of course my liege, it would be no hardship." 

His tone is respectful to him, but his glower for Optimus is molten as he holds optic contact with him as he downloads the forms to the offered datapad. With a tiny ding to state it was ready Optimus has to wrench the datapad out of Shockwave's servo and walks over to the opposite wall to stand as he begins to fill them out.

Rolling his optics and huffing lightly at the scene Megatron takes a seat in one of the office's chairs and observes Optimus.

"What are those forms for and why are they so important?"

Looking over the datapad with a shrewd look Optimus' optics narrow before looking back at his datapad.

"Three transfers, an exchange member form, outside intelligence work, and a team update application. Autobot High Command wants to know who is apart of my team here as there has been changes. For some reason the system apparently didn't receive the newly filled out datawork I did right before we boarded the _Kalis' Lament_."

Megatron then witnesses both Shockwave and Optimus have similar expressions of exasperation and Shockwave even whispers the Autobots' Second designation in disgust letting Megatron know the likely culprit.

"So I have to do it again and send it to Ultra Magnus personally. But it works out because I need add Blurr to my roster."

_Ah yes, the little blue speedster._

Megatron had never hear someone speak so clearly and so fast before, but glancing to his left he can see that Shockwave's attention is focused on Optimus to a burning degree. And observing another such reaction from someone as stoic as Shockwave he wonders if he was going to have to arrange an accident for this Blurr.

"Wonderful," Megatron says, his voice dropping into a bored tone, "Just what I needed. Another Autobot on my ship."

With a stilted snort Optimus continues with his work and Shockwave hurries himself with his original task. Finishing at approximately the same time Optimus hands over the datapad to Shockwave. Pausing to snatch the datapad out of the other's servo he skims over it before antlers tilt in a self-assure way and slides the datapad back to Optimus.

"You didn't add your team's designation."

"Is that really necessary?” Optimus asks with a frown, "I gave the Id codes and shell model of my team. They'll know who's here."

"If you wish for it to be filed and authorized you need a team designation. You should known this. It is for the better-than-thou propaganda you Autobots spread."

Looming over the Autobot as Optimus looks up to him at that soft insult they both hold each other's glares as Optimus blindly reaches out and grabs the datapad. Still holding Shockwave's stare he types out a name, muttering that 'They better like this' before dropping the datapad down defiantly. Shockwave's antlers are almost horizontal as he sends the files off before holding the datapad out again for Optimus to have to muscle it from the stronger bot. But in doing so Optimus turns away with the momentum he used to pull the datapad away. 

"And while Blurr is here stay away from him," Optimus tells – no – commands Shockwave as he turns back around, "I don't want you making any type of contact with him until he's comfortable with this arrangement." 

Shockwave's short moment of victory is damper as the focal of his optic narrows and his claws form fists.

"How do expect him to make reports?"

With a suave smirk Optimus holds up the datapad and waves it at him, "I think he'll mange."

And spinning around on his pedes he leaves the office, his smugness and exhilaration swelling to fill the office for a nanoklik before it's gone with him. 

Raising an optic ridge at the sparkling display of dominance, Megatron knew it must have some basis in a previous and much more expansive encounter. Turning his attention back to Shockwave he finds his spy hunched over with flatten antlers and field sizzling with irritation.

"What a difficult mech you have been saddled with my liege."

"He certainly demands your attention," Megatron agrees easily, "But what a discovery."

_And nothing is easily tamed when first discovered. But with time..._

Clenching and unclenching his servos Optimus stomps down the hall livid at the destination and two of the occupants there.

He was supposed to be reporting something inane to someone in the loading bay, but all those thoughts were forgotten when he ran into a disgruntle Prowl and an agitated Blurr. What he was told left him furious and not only because Shockwave had attempted to approach Blurr, but because he had mention a strategy meeting in passing. A meeting Megatron should have told Optimus about since it was about the defense of Vehicon. But he didn't and now his anger was stretched to encompass both Decepticons. Coming up on the doors, Optimus takes in a deep vent of atmosphere and slowly lets it out, but has to do it two more times when he reaches the doors to make sure he doesn't yell at Megatron for keeping him out of the loop. He knew he had too much self-control to yell at the leader of the Decepticons in a room full of Decepticons, but he was pushing Optimus.

With one more exvent he let himself into the Command Center.

_ **WOOSH!** _

But as several infamous Decepticons turn to look at him curiously he can see _them_ through the gaps and it has him all riled up again and instead of the collected look Optimus wanted to go for he storms in. It's only when he gets halfway into the room and closer to the Decepticons that Optimus recognizing he was, once again, vertically challenged here.

But to his right was his saving grace.

Walking over to the meeting table at the other end of the room Optimus goes up to what he knows is Megatron's seat and briefly fantasizes about breaking it, but moves on to what he was here to do. Knocking over the chair to the left of Megatron's he pulls out his axe and hacks the legs to half length before subspacing his axe and picking the chair up, walking it back over with purpose.

His shorter stature makes it easy for him to set the chair in between two Decepticons and fit in the space, a space that has him perfectly across from Megatron. 

"...That was my chair." Shockwave breaks the silence.

Glaring as hard as he could Shockwave actually recoils back, even if it was only half of a mechanometer.

"You’ll get over it and get a new one!" Optimus lets himself snap at the cyclops.

Silenced at that Optimus looks down at the holo-table and tries to see how far they had gotten before he arrived.

_Remain calm and look assertive. I know what I'm doing... I just have to make them believe it too._

"What are the entrance points we're looking at for Vehicon? And our main form of defensive, air or land forces? And what maneuvers will you be taking so we won’t be caught in the crossfire? Or have you accounted for all that and decided on something else?"

Gazing up at Megatron, Optimus catches a sight that almost has him losing his cool. If Megatron was imposing enough in well lit quarters the low lighting on the ship mixed with the neon lavender glow of the table bathed him in eerie menacing brilliance. His optics bore into him, calculating and burning, with his dermas set in a thin, hard line. But Optimus holds Megatron’s unimpressed stare and uses his discontent to fuel his courage.

"This is supposed to be a coordinated _joint_ attack." He reminds Megatron and thanks the Allspark his voice doesn't shake.

"How do you expect the Autobots to help," And he pushes pass the few who snicker at that, "if you don't give me any information to relay to High Command? Our attempt to save this planet and the system could fail before we even begin. And on top of that I can't guarantee my end of the treaty will be held up if I'm kept out."

He was only telling the truth, but Optimus could see the glares focused on him because of his last statement. But Megatron seems unmoved as Optimus continues to hold his gazes. But after a few intense nanokliks,

"Strika." Megatron says simply, never looking away.

But that's all Optimus needed and he knows his place is accepted here, if begrudgingly, now. Looking away first he turns to Strika and is met with her permanent glower of loathing for him before turning to Megatron and giving a curt bow of her helm.

"Yes my lord."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Optimus on a Decepticon cruiser: You must be this tall to ride this ride.
> 
> I assume Decepticon HR is basically none existence and I love to think about how everyone handles their grievances. Obviously with violence, but sometimes passive aggressive comments and hostile glaring is used with the violence.
> 
> Also just in case anyone is confused about Blurr not being cubed, I smashed Transwarped into one very tiring day on Earth instead of two and used science to explain the difference in time. And with Megatron not randomly warping everywhere, he was able to contact Shockwave sooner about his cover and call a stop to the attacks. This also meant Shockwave was gone before Blurr ran his ass back to Cybertron to blow his cover.


	10. (“Counterattack”);

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First team-up battle! So be ready for minor gore from Decepticons.... From Megatron, but you knew that coming in. Enjoy (๑^◡^๑)

"Grand Thyous. I have today's report."

Looking down at one of her lower officers she gestures for them to continue.

"Two planets of the star system Bikon have been conquered and the Autobot Cybertronians have retreated to their stronghold on Vehicon. The star systems of Regulon and Dromadon have had a third and half of the planets, respectively, successfully taken over. Your plan to focus on the Autobot Cybertronians' section of space has yielded a greater area of conquered planets and pushed many of the civilians back to the closest systems surrounding Cybertron."

Hearing that her corralling method was working boosted Ehni's ego. She knew she was impressive, but hearing it cemented it. The Autobot Cybertronians had been crafty thus far and did hold on to some planets and bases longer than others, but in the end they were always hers.

"Though," The officer begins timidly, "the Decepticon Cybertronians have repelled any attacks against them, leaving us with high casualties, and thus less captures." 

Grimacing at those horrible encounters and the victories the Decepticon Cybertronians had over her Fourth Armada sours her mood, but it wasn't enough with the news she had received.

"Cancel all attacks on the Decepticon Cybertronian space and focus on the Autobots' section. They have what we truly need. If the Potentious declares for the Decepticons enslavement or destruction we will ready a plan then as they pose no threat if we do not attack them outright."

With such bad ichor between the two nations of Cybertron Ehni knew she could conquer both separately as these robots' political infighting would stop them from creating a united front.

Humming to herself, Ehni stands from her command throne to walk down the steps of the tall dais and to the hard-light table in the center of the room. Studying it, she gives the officer a small shrug, "Regardless of that stumble this is still excellent news. All we do is for Cybertron."

Changing the images to the shimmering planet in question, a world existing of mostly metal, she sighs breathlessly at the tempting image. A planet full of robots, destructive technology, and nanites. So many nanites. And the equipment to make as many robots as they wanted to harvest for her Royals and her people.

"Cybertron. Cybertron is the true prize." She breathes.

Reaching out for the hard-light projection Ehni grasps it gently, caressing it, only to increase her grip steadily until it shatters in her hold.

_And they will get what they deserve!_

Because of those foolish robots clashing with the immoral Quintessons, the Qidried existed the way they did now.

Millions of seasons ago they were hunted down and conquered by the invertebrates to be experimented on. It was with the hopefulness of becoming the perfect versions of organic Cybertronians, a weapon against their so-called 'superiors'. Though how superior could the Cybertronians be if they couldn't agree on one form of government. But with the robots ending their battles against the invertebrates before the Qidried could be utilized they were left abandoned. Ignored as the rest of the Sphere grew in strength around them. A forgotten world, lost on their own ravaged home where they struggled to understand how to live again. Paranoid of being hunted down like animals once more.

But as the seasons passed they grew to understand what the invertebrates did to them, became stronger because of it, and rebuilt their way of life better than before. It did not cool the burning hate they still harbored for their greatest pains. They still burned with a desire to be proven as the powerful lifeforms they were. That the Qidrieds were not a genetic fluke in testing and disinterest. That they were their own weapons because they willed it themselves.

They grew powerful under the two ignorant and boastful powers which they would conquer. They would show their damned creators the lengths and strength they would go with capturing the planet they never could. And with the robots defeated they would be able to destroy the invertebrates 'sphere of influence' nicely beneath their heel. It was not for any gain, only for their creators’ complete destruction to let them see their world ripped asunder and left smoldering. Ehni would be as ruthless as they were to her ancestors and avenged them for what they did. Only then could her people truly be at peace.

Despite their independent growth since the experiments the use of nanites by the Quintessons were now essential for the Qidried to survive. They gave them their morphing and healed them after using their abilities. But after millennia and the growing population the supplies in the abandoned laboratories ran out and the star system panicked.

It was only the wisdom of Potentious Dirn that stopped them for falling into despair. He sanctioned hunts of robotic creatures for their healing mircobots on nearby robotic worlds. But it only lasted so long before Qidried bodies started to rejected them. So they went after the Mechanoids of the Imperium and though they worked for a longer time the Qidried knew that they needed what they were first sourced on.

The so-called Transformers of Cybertron.

Potentious Eihr, the great grandchild of Potentious Dirn, was able to test this with a foolish Autobot Cybertronian that ventured too far from the safety of their Commonwealth. And with that proof – something that Ehni had theorized – her people rallied behind Potentious Eihr for another campaign. It was pure excellence and fate that her mother had stepped down as Grand Thyous after 680 seasons and named her successor. She had successfully conquered the other half of the Imperium and disperse half of the rebellion founded in response along with Vestum Major's royals. Having the title given to her gave Ehni the perfect time to shine, and shine she had. Twelve systems captured or in retreat in a mere six hecaii was astounding. How the Autobot Cybertronians survived this long was a mystery or a testament to her genius.

And with the robots they had caught and tested they were beginning to see how powerful their abilities could become. The early results were so promising that Ehni could see it now, her soldiers able to adapt at exponential levels and speeds and with enhanced abilities. They could easily take and fit onto any planet in the Autobot Cybertronian space, even Cybertron, erasing their parodies from the galaxy!

Smirking as she changes the projector back to the Bikon system she watches the statistics on their upcoming battle for Vehicon. As she plays the sim the planned scene begins to go in her favor and she grins at it, laughing uproariously. Another world would soon fall to her mighty Legions.

_Everything is full-proof!_

Megatron was still mildly astonished that Optimus had swept into the war meeting. His ire like a category 4 silicastorm as he laid into him about his position - though only in the official capacity as viewed by the Autobots - but Megatron let it pass. Only a brave or foolish few had stood up to him like that, but only the brave were viewed as concerns and Optimus Prime was truly showing he was worthy of the rare title of 'adversary'.

_So much disregard, even when he was frightened._

He chuckles, almost pleased with the Decepticon-like attitude Optimus had put forth.

* * *

* * *

"Yes my lord," Strika intones, "Ve vill be arriving at the planet in approximately three megacycles before the Qidried. Ve vill be moving in from the planet's equator at a forty degree angle to ride through the immense gravitational tides that surround the planet. It is the easiest way to enter the planet's atmosphere and vill also be our first line of defense. The Qidried seems skilled enough that ve posit they vill be slowed, but not deterred. The intel received from the Autobot speedster places their centralized attack at the Alpexis Cove where most of the Commonwealth's Energon and metal refinery factories are located."

"Those factories actually have light shield generators." Optimus adds.

Glancing back to the Autobot he takes his cue to speak, "It's for the meteorites that get pulled in from the nearby remnants of its moons. We'll probably have them on the highest power for when the Qidried arrive."

"Then they'll have to make planetfall, not just breach the atmosphere, if they wish to destroy them." Scrash surmises.

"So ve must derail that plan and construct a way to block them off and squeeze them in. If they are unable to move forward or to fire from above they vill have to send in squadrons to do it manually," Strika continues, pulling up a closer view of the upcoming battlefield, "It would be even better if ve could layer the traps to separate forces."

"How powerful were the ships' firepower when you face them?" Optimus asks and the resulting silence causes Megatron to frown deeply.

Clearing his intake, Shockwave sends a screen over to Optimus to view, "The heavy cruisers had a 4 GW magnitude and the auxiliary ships had a 2.5 MW magnitude."

Reading over it Optimus' optics brighten before he nods to himself confidently, "Our freighters can take that."

"Excuse me?" Strika looks over with a grimace, obviously angry that she could not see the plan Optimus had worked out. But neither had Megatron so he watches with interest.

Accessing the catalog of battle models Optimus finds the Autobot section of their collection and with a frown - probably from their extensive knowledge of their ships - begins typing in numbers. Standing straight, Optimus reaches out to place a series of hard-light created freighters over the collection of factories 6 hics up and over the total area of 430,000 square mechanometers.

"It might be crude, but the only ships we have in the area are heavy freighters to move the goods and energy off Vehicon. They have the strongest shields we've developed so they couldn't be boarded by pirates or damaged in solar winds or by asteroids. If we set up a blockade over Alpexis in a stacked fashion their shields should be more than enough to stop the Qidried ship's cannons. That way they would have to come to us and we would be able to overwhelm them. Decepticons from the air and the Autobots on land."

A fierce frown comes from Strika while the rest of his war council looks considerate of the idea.

"Can you promise that your leadership will abide by such a plan?" Megatron asks coolly, "Losing lives so frivolously."

"I'm sure there is a way for them to be set and left. High Command only needs to know that you'll be with them to give it the go ahead," His Token tells him with a determine glint in his optics, "You have my word."

Megatron considers him for a moment before turning to his General of Destruction, "Then we will proceed. Anything to add Strika."

"Our ships are more maneuverable and can be used to cut off their retreat and cripple any other in-coming ships. I suggest implementing that attack if their ships attempt to move to an unprotected side or when their soldiers begin retreat. I estimate between four thousand to eight vill be the maximum they are villing to sacrifice. I vill need an accurate count so I know when to prime the cannons."

"Very well, make it so. Now onto formations."

* * *

* * *

"Lord Megatron."

Scanning for the mech that the familiar baritone belonged to, Megatron finds Scrash dismissing his lieutenants and waiting for him by the open bay doors.

"Every one of my mechas have been briefed on the new formations to take over the air space." He announces when Megatron comes closer.

"Excellent," But Megatron can tell that's not all he has to say. He can see his Air General observing him, "Is there something else you wish to speak about?"

Frowning slightly his helm tilts to one side, "Nacelle hoverer my lord?" Scrash questions.

Megatron would be mildly impressed that Scrash had figured out his alt mode if it hadn't been for the fact that he was his Air General and had seen every flightframe in existence. Looking at himself Megatron knew he couldn't have guess, all he would have known is that he wasn't a space battle-class ship and he didn't have visible nacelles like Blackout.

He was a perfect blend between his most recent mode and his usual one.

His sharper attributes around his pedes and abdominal plates had not return and looked similar to his Earth form. He still had a diamondnite glass canopy along his backstructs, but at only half the length. His forearms and his shoulders had returned to normal except for strips of color that hadn't been there before. His pauldrons had similar openings to the Earth form with the burgundy red surrounding the exhaust ports. And finally, his helm had retained the boxy quality though it had picked up sharper points around the edges and at the side of his helm, protecting his faceplates even if they were half the original length.

Despite the changes Megatron believed he still made a formidable image.

"I became partial to a similar format while on Earth."

Tilting his helm back the other way Scrash's frown lightens, "I wasn't expecting it, but you did pick a good model though. You look terrifying."

"I know." Megatron smirks lightly.

But before he could say anything else a shadow begins to slowly cast itself over the bay. Looking out they can see one of the Autobots' freighters moving into place before a shuttle leaves a few cycles later with the shield coming on, only the haze around it giving it away. With 30 of them blocking the factories they were ready to make their first stand.

"I believe that is the last of the freighters," Scrash tells him, "Still is remarkable that he got those paranoid pistons to agree. He seems to have more pull then I thought."

"You have no idea," Megatron answers, thinking about his own discoveries about Optimus Prime.

No sooner had he spoke did the Talon's klaxons begin to go off and dimming the low lights even further in intervals, 'Enemy: Qidried 100 hics from first gravity plane. Estimated time to planetfall: 10 cycles. Enemy: Qidried 95 hics from —'

Turning to Scarsh he nods and makes his way to the doors, "Let the battle begin."

Taking the last few steps Megatron jumps and falls weightlessly from his ship, but only for a few nanokliks before transforming and flying up to join the other Decepticons laying in wait beneath the freighters, waiting for the organics to come pass them. Megatron knew he wasn't going to end up staying here, the sweet call of battle pulled on his programming and transformed his protection protocols to survival mode, priming all his systems with easy command codes to ensure he was coming out of this functioning.

* * *

It doesn't take long for the lines of each army to blur together, a destructive ebb and flow like a churning surf.

The plan Optimus had put forth worked perfectly. The cruisers shot a volley of rounds only for the freighters to repel them and led to them descending, both in shuttles and as individuals. His Decepticons easily fell the individual fighters, but the shuttles had mostly made it to the surface intact only for their laser fire to be deflected off the factories shields.

Megatron is not sure when he had abandon the aerial battle for land, but his strength was needed there more than in the air. He was also most comfortable, and his most deadly, on the ground.

Slicing through two of the Qidrieds' necks that dare attack him he turns and shoves his other sword through another's abdomen coming from his right, firing his cannon to disintegrates his helm and felling to others behind him. They were numerous, but somewhat easy to kill, almost a shame.

Turning to another foolish solider Megatron actually plays with them as they try to outmatch him by creating two swords of their own from their morphing weapon. But even with the extra strength and height they had created it was no match for the experience of thousands of stellar cycles in the Kaon Pit. Spinning his left wrist down he slices off the Qidried’s hand then raises a pede to kick them back, feeling something give under his pede as he does.

"Umf!"

Stumbling forward, as someone had just used his back as a spring board, Megatron spins around ready to strike down whoever had the audacity to hit him only to find Optimus standing up and pulling his grapplers back to himself. Just behind him was a scorched pit in the iron soil. Once again Megatron owed his safety to this Autobot.

"Surprised twice in a stellar cycle. You are something Little Autobot."

Optimus gives him a sour look and answers, "Well I hope you don’t turn me into a shield this time. Don’t do that and we don't have to talk about it," Then holding up his axe he blocks a laser blast directed at his own helm.

Crossing his right arm over his chassis Megatron fires at whatever was over there as he simply smirks at Optimus, "Don’t make an egregious mistake and you should be fine."

Grimacing, Optimus blocks another blast before giving him one more look and turning his back - his trust a surprise - but turning to place Optimus at his back as well Megatron can see that he would need him as a group of heavily armored Qidrieds were closing in.

_This will certainly be interesting battle._

Optimus' is not sure when or how the Qidried made it through the shielding of two freighter, but they had overworked some system resulting in its destruction. Those of them on the ground were lucky that another layer of freighters stopped a majority of wreckage and shrapnel that fell. But now the Qidried had a bigger opening and if they're ships were given a clear shot it would only take one hit to see that attacking the army below was more beneficial than the factories. Generals and Commanders quickly reorganized the barricade, calling the Decepticons' ships from above to distract the Qidried while having some of the stronger Decepticons physically push another freighter into the empty space. They were to be protected by the snipers on top of two factories - the shields being reworked to leave the roofs unprotected for them - except now the snipers needed protecting too.

Paradron Prime put out a call for extra cover fire and Optimus had the unfortunate luck of standing next to his two teammates that could provide that cover. Bumblebee and Wasp were quick and smaller targets to hit, but that was no guarantee that a Qidried sharpshooter wouldn't get them.

"You aren't required to go if you don't think you —"

"We can do it Bossbot," Bumblebee cuts him off with a grin, "We got this."

Turning to Wasp he receives an affirmative nod and looks just as determined. And with that Optimus' decision is no longer his to make, he only needs to get them there. Getting an all clear from the snipers on their ridge they make a diagonal dash for the closet factory. 

"Wasp," Ducking as laser fire goes by them, "Target anything that gets lower than 1 hic. There's a platform that runs vertically across the roof. Bumblebee, I want you to cover his sides for any possible attacks. Some of the solar or gravity towers will have spiral walkways that you can use as a lookout point."

"That's cool and all," Bumblebee says before looking up one of the shear sides of the factory, "but how in the galaxy are we getting up there?"

"Bumble right," Wasp agrees, "Can't get in to take elevators."

With a dry grin Optimus stands from their crouched huddle to fire both of his grapplers at the top of the building, catching an overhang. Getting the idea both minibots jump onto his back and once they had a good hold Optimus activated the recoiling and is swiftly pull to the top of the structure. Rolling over the top they see they got there just in time.

Bumblebee and Wasp jump into action and start holding off the Qidrieds that were flying in too close along the varying heights of the roof's structure. Optimus stays long enough to help deflect other random shots and to ease his mind that the two minibots have this. And seeing they were fine and that more back-up was arriving Optimus shoots his grapple at a nearby exhaust fan so he can swing down to help on the ground again. But before his grapple claw can attach to the fan its yanked away in another direction. 

With a sharp tug Optimus finds himself being pull towards a Qidried that was luckily enough to land. Before Optimus can get over his shock the Qidried solider pulls harder and begins to twirl the line around, catching him in his own tool again. But the difference was that when Megatron did that he was stronger and lifted Optimus off the ground and didn't give him any leverage.

Here he had plenty of it.

Pushing off with his left pede Optimus spins counterclockwise undoing the line and pulls the alien to him to kick them. But he miscalculates the weight and ends up kneeing them in the neck and then kicking them back, which has the solider stumbling and falling off the building. Quickly detaching the line Optimus scrambles back, surprise it worked, but upset at himself for not seeing them in the first place and for the sloppiness of the move he just succeed in.

_Sire would have done that much better... I really hope he didn’t see that._

"Optimus!"

Turning to the yell Optimus has enough time to see a Qidried behind him and jumps away as Wasp shoots them in the back. With a yell they crash and fall off the building as well.

"Thanks WasAAAHHH!"

"NO!"

Snatched off the roof Optimus struggles to get any purchase on the flying alien, but it's no use. Even worst they look down to grin at him with their sharp set of dentas and Optimus recognizes the face enough to know this is the same Qidried he kicked off the factory! Before he can do much more they let go.

The familiar moment of weightless is shorter as he drops from a higher height, his focus solely on the Qidried that dropped him. But only a moment after the Qidried is blasted, through and through, and falls limply out of the sky. Following the blast a shadow blocks out the sun and knowing that shape anywhere Optimus shoots off another line and braces himself for the sharp tug of going into motion. The snap is as painful as he expected, but some pain was better than death. 

As they near the ground Megatron transforms and Optimus is forced to disengage his line and roll into a landing, which could have gone better if he hadn't rolled through a couple of lithium shrubs.

"Interesting move earlier." He hears to his right.

"Was really hoping you wouldn't see that," Optimus groans, both at the comment and at his sore stabilizers, "Someday I really need to learn how to fly." He says to himself.

"I think you would find it quite easy." Megatron grins in his self-assured way.

_What does that even mean?_

Frowning at the other, knowing that he couldn't see it with his battlemask up, Optimus hopes by now that Megatron would know his general demeanor to these quips were just exasperation.

Turning away Optimus spots movement to his right and without even thinking fires a grapple at one of Megatron's sharp exhaust ports and swings up and over to kick a Qidried back. Landing further away Optimus can see that he and Megatron are slowly being surrounded on all sides like before, but there were more of them and less back-up than last time.

"Autobot!"

Quickly glance back Optimus sees Megatron holding his left servo out and doesn't question what he wants, immediately firing his grapple back. Megatron snatches it out of the air and winds it around his servo three times before pulling his arm in. Wrapping his hand around the line once Optimus pushes off the ground to give himself more hang-time as Megatron swings the line and him forward like a living mace.

Engaging his axe he blocks a shot aimed at him and kicks another solider in the face and use it to push off so Megatron doesn't have to use more energy then needed. It becomes much of a blurr after that, being swung about only getting a light tug before he knew to go limp to move, spinning his axe to deflect lasers, or using his axe at its full length to pole vault over Megatron to taken down another Qidried in his blind spot.

A light tug tells Optimus he's about to be swung around again, but the line suddenly goes lax and Optimus watches as the Qidried soldiers in his sights stop advancing only to leave all together. Before he can even question the strangeness of that a slow clap from above draws their attention and they fall back into defensive stances.

Above them was another Qidried solider, but they were different then the soldiers in the bulky heavy silver armor or the basic grey of the other soldiers. This flying Qidried had some of the largest wings he had seen, which was odd with their shorter horns only reaching to the back of their head with multiple plates lining them. And not only that they were protected by slim white armor that had a variety of designs painted across the forearms, shins, and breastplate in red, orange, and teal. Smirking at the two of them she flies backwards to be in front of him, but causes Megatron to have to turn around and Optimus can feel the robust irritation at that.

"Ah, a worthy opponent has finally taken to the field," They say in a high voice, but in a tone that speaks nothing but anger, "Our battles will go down as sensational in our records before you are defeated. I greet you on the front Megatron, Emperor of New Koan and Leader of the Decepticons," They say with a grin that sports too many denta, "Though I must admit my surprise at your presence. My intelligence stated you were not allowed to step foot within the bounds of this space."

Letting go of his grappler Megatron steps forward and says very calmly, "And you are?"

The Qidried's grin drops before composing themselves, "Ehni D’Yesn, Magistratus of Tau-Ursa and the Grand Thyuos of the Tixlaran Legion. I will be the harbinger of your kind and it's planet's downfall." They boast.

Before Optimus could even question why they were doing this he feels a ripple of amusement and irritation, growing by the nanoklik. Looking back he sees Megatron smirking and Optimus knows this is about to go poorly with him unable to stop it. 

"Don't —"

"You are little more than an pretentious infestation and I will take great pleasure in decimating your armies and running you out to the rims of the galaxy. You will beg for a swift end and not receive it. You will regret having design for my planet." Megatron growls, grinning all the while.

Optimus' optics flicker in disappointment before looking up and seeing an expression of wide optic disbelief and a glower that looks beyond rage. And turning to Megatron he can understand why the Grand Thyuos looks that way. Optimus personally knows that expression, the smoldering intimidation that peeves him off too. It was like Megatron was looking right through you, as if he didn't take you seriously. Optimus knows because he had both the smolder and the glare directed towards him plenty of times when he was on Earth.

Megatron's grin grows and the Grand Thyous flushes a dark turquoise as he steps just in front of Optimus and pulls a sword from subspace to point at them.

"It is almost humorous that you think you would be a threat with how poorly you did against my army when you dare to threat Ijurn. I will have you pay for that —"

Then Optimus' attention is abruptly taken from Megatron's speech to his wrist, only to see Megatron's servo holding it. Looking up for an answer he receives a ping for a message and in opening it sees,

[[Go for their right wing.]]

Barely any time to question that Optimus is launched at the Thyous.

He has just enough time to swing his axe out to slices at the wing as he goes by, continuing to sail over the battlefield left to wonder how in the Pit he was going to land without injuring himself. 

_At least I wasn't a shield again._

He can only think cynically before something grabs him and holds him close as he continues to fall. Looking up Optimus sees he's been caught by Lugnut. 

"Token! Brace yourself!" The bruiser shouts over the battle.

And over the firefight Optimus can hear a transformation sequence and sees Lugnut getting ready to punch the fast incoming ground. The only thing he can do is turn off his audials, close his vents, and turn into Lugnut's hold as he braces for impact.

Surging up to meet the Thyuos on the aerial battlefield Megatron soon finds they are a capable fighter.

But only just.

Moving his larger frame out of their quick attacks Megatron quickly categorizes them as someone who relied on agile and speed, ignoring other tactics at their disposal. But even so he had to remain vigilant that one of the Qidried's relentless attacks didn't strike him. Taking more calculated moves Megatron lets the Thyuos guide their spar until he had all the information he needed of their weak points. First, and most painfully obvious, were the wings beating against their back, perfect weak points which he had exploited earlier and had dropped them a few mechnaometers. Second, was their tenacity. The attacks weren't paced, obviously expecting a different battle strategy from him. And thirdly, was the reliance on their strength. Even with it they hadn’t done more than move him back a few nanometers, hover booster had something over basic wings.

"I'll tell you now that I am not easily awed and you have yet to even near the standard of 'poor'."

But the Thyuos did keep him moving which could be a problem if he couldn't track them. They had also seem to pick up he was toying with them - _Not slow apparently_ \- and their swift attacks became more numerous as they grew two more sets of arms, though shorter in length. 

"They call you Transformers, but you are nothing of the sort. We can be far more varied then you could ever hope!" They shriek, grinning as if they won.

Every movement from then on was a fluid deadly dance, but deplorably predictable. Not like Optimus who found away to confound him most of the time.

_There._

Their left side sagged a nanometer, but Megatron saw it and his programs demand he take advantage.

Reaching forward, he slices up and takes out most of the soft wing and then with his other servo he takes ahold of the shorter clawed arm and spins them around before flinging them across the sky. They slam into one of their shuttles leaving the battle making a wonderful resounding thunk that was punctuated by them struggling to gathering themselves up. But the Thyuos doesn’t jump from the ship, instead they glare fiercely at him before climbing into the ship as it rockets past the closing hole in the freighter barricade. With them gone the other Qidrieds soon follow and the battle is over with Megatron remaining victorious.

The excitement of fighting a new foe and the prospect of continuing to defeat and humiliate them in battle burned an old fire in his spark. With a guttural yell he shouts his victory and it is soon followed by his other Decepticons in a rallying cry. 

Laughing hardily at the response he flies over to where Lugnut had landed with Optimus. What he finds is a particularly unimpressed Autobot waiting for him at the edge of the crater surrounded by a few Decepticons.

"Megatron! What was that?!" Optimus yells as he unfolds his arms to point at the direction he just came from.

"Explain 'what', Little Autobot?" He asks casually.

"What you said to the Qidried Commander. Did you really have to say that? Now you’ve antagonized them."

"They needed to know who was in charge."

"You’re not in charge," Optimus says flatly, only for him to turn away in a huff when Megatron gives him a meaningful smirk, "Either way they're going to focus on you whenever they can. Did you see that expression?"

"Yes, it’s one you’ve had many times before. Only their's was more vacant. Their blind focus will be their inevitable downfall." 

"Or yours. They’re the leader of their legion. They could focus the entire armada on you."

"An exercise really." Megatron dismisses the warning with a roll of his optics.

"This wasn’t so you could have a sparring partner." Optimus hisses, baring his dentea at the same time.

Raising an optic ridge at the moderately sharpen denta, nothing like a warframe fangs though not the dull flat denta of an Autobot, Megatron grins as he ignores another tell to Optimus’ heritage, "I'm glad you noticed her subpar attacks too."

"Megatron be serious."

"I am Little Prime."

He pauses momentarily in his reprimand at the small upgrade to his name before reciting his normal reply with more emphasis then usual.

"My name is Optimus Prime."

Giving the Autobot a momentary reprieve Megatron grins slowly, showing off his fangs, before saying, “I know.”

The silent glare lasts a few nanokliks longer than he expected before Optimus opens his mouth partially to scream, at least Megatron thought so. But the noise is more one par with a faint incoherent noise before he throws up his servos and is quickly surrounded by the two cyber-ninjas and the green minibot. They move as an effective unit and direct his Token away from him, but Megatron has little worry that he won't return before they leave the planet.

"Don't forget about my demands Little Prime," Megatron calls out and watches him bristle as his fins pull back in disgust.

Prowl watches dolefully as Optimus' fins pull further and further back even with the distance they were putting between themselves and Megatron. Meanwhile, Wasp is looking over Optimus with a worried optic and if this keeps up he was bound to explode again.

"Jazz. Wasp," Prowl gently calls for the their attention, "You can go ahead. We’ll be right there."

Jazz glances at him and then to Optimus before nodding, "Sure thing. Come on Wasp." Lengthening his stride to reach the minibot in from of him.

"But...," And looking between them, concern and sadness is broadcasted clearly from Wasp’s field.

"It's okay Wasp," And Prowl is surprised that Optimus had the restraint left to sound so calm, "Prowl and I have some things to talk about."

With one more furrowed look he turns away, "...Okay."

"Wasp. I'm alright. Megatron caught me before I hit the ground," And holding a servo out Optimus waits for Wasp to give him the okay before laying it on his shoulder, "And you did a good job up there. I'm proud of you."

Wasp stares up at the Prime with a blank gaze before his faceplates go through a set of conflicting emotions before settling on bashful with an uneasy smile as he looks down, nodding shyly. With a smile of his own Jazz shakes his helm fondly before leading Wasp towards the factories.

"He's getting better at handling compliments," Optimus says softly, "Whatever you and Jazz are doing is working very well."

Prowl hadn't meant to take Wasp ‘under his wing', as the humans said, but Prowl didn't mind and it had done wonders for Wasp's mind since his first appearance. Prowl assumed it was his calmer presence and his advice that endeared Wasp to him.

It likely started when Prowl had seen Wasp become overwhelm by Bumblebee the first day he was with them. The cyber-ninja had taken it upon himself to invite the green minibot to his room, leaving him there and saying his door was open anytime, all he needed to do was ask. That had been the start of Wasp relearning that he could ask for things. Such as telling Bumblebee 'no' or that he wanted alone time when the other minibot got too involved in Wasp’s personal space. Thankfully Bumblebee took it to spark and showed a level of maturity that Prowl did not know he possessed by getting Wasp’s attention before coming a step closer. Another time was when Wasp was on the verge of a panic attack because Bulkhead had moved too fast - _For once_ \- and too loudly as usual re-entering the base. Prowl swiftly made it over to Wasp, but before he could do anything Wasp asked for his help. Prowl and Optimus had to have a short talk with Bulkhead on how to make a more subtle approach as not to frighten him, as Wasp seemed sensitive to sudden movements. After that Bulkhead was the quietest he had ever been and Prowl was quite proud of him for doing so.

And though he had his servo in helping Wasp, it was Jazz who had brought the minibot out of his shell and made him more comfortable around them. Jazz's stress-free and cheerful field was always lightly held and without realizing it Wasp had gravitated to him because of it. He also spoke to Wasp plainly, always asking what he wanted or what he could do for him. Jazz's easygoing attitude and general need to try any new thing once made him the perfect bot to handle Wasp's needed confidence boost as they explored Detroit together, Bumblebee leading the way. Yes, most of those time lead to illegal actions and yelling from Captain Fanzone, but the lack of consequences did help Wasp.

With a nod of agreement Prowl turns to Optimus, "Now if only someone else would take them to spark too."

"Prowl —"

"How are you?" Prowl cuts him off before he can say anything silly. But it does not stop Optimus.

"Prowl. I'm fine I don’t —"

Taking hold of his larger servos Prowl squeezes them and Optimus grunts before sighing, sounding physically pained. Pressing his thumbs into the center of them Prowl rubs at the somewhat roughen metal and waits for Optimus to speak. As he meets his optics Prowl can see the pain and tiredness as his field loosens to show how irritated and helpless his leader felt.

"It's ... It's going to be okay." He tries again.

"I beg to differ. If you let yourself get worked up again you're going to have a helmache like the one a stellar cycle ago." Prowl reminds him.

That leaves Optimus frowning at the ground as he clearly remembers the burnout he suffered the day after he scattered the Allspark.

"I don't want that," Optimus mumbles before groaning and pulling away from him, "I don't want any of this." He says lowly, rubbing at his audial bolts.

"You shouldn't have accepted," Prowl tells him sharply. It’s the same thing he has been saying since Optimus told them about the Offering Ceremony, "I’ve said it before, but I still think you need to greatly consider stepping back —"

"There isn’t anything I can do," Optimus cuts him off quietly, "It’s all on Megatron......It wasn't supposed to happen, but it has and its the best way now."

Watching the younger mech Prowl wishes there was more he could do then just lend an audial to hear his problems, "Optimus. No one is asking you to solve everything single-servoed. You shouldn't put so much pressure on yourself," And approaching the distress bot again lays a comforting servo on his arm.

"It... It’s not that easy."

"Now that is one thing I've noticed."

Looking down at him perplexed Prowl feel his dermas quirk up in a tiny thoughtful grin, "Optimus, everything you do you try to do with excellence. And your attempts, while usually successful, sometimes aren't as perfect as you hoped and you will then push yourself to the extreme. As if you're making up for something," Prowl knew that feeling personally, but could see it so easily in Optimus since the moment he allowed him on his team. Prowl had seen how strict Optimus held himself, how if anything went wrong he apologize and tried to fix it. Like he was trying to show the universe he was capable of something, "You don't have to make up for anything. You're a good bot and a great leader, even if your team is just a 'ragtag group of ruffians'."

Prowl does get a small knowing smile from Optimus at repeating one of the many phrases Ratchet uses for them, but as quick as it appears it disappears, "I just have to protect others Prowl... I need to protect all of you."

"And I'm thankful for someone having my best interest at spark, but how do you expect to do that if you’re always down with a cluttered mainframe." Prowl tries to persuade him again.

He had tried many times before when he caught the Prime wandering around at night, working late, or doing extra night cycle patrolling after multiple ones in a row. Prowl can only hope, belatedly, that the higher stakes would force Optimus to realizes he needs to center himself and have some time to himself every so often. That he would notice his care and concern for them was not one-sided.

With a heavy sigh Optimus looks over to him and tries to smile, but while his face wasn't cooperating his field had mellowed and his structs had relaxed.

"Guess I'm going need the mechas I'm trying to protect, to protect me."

"I'll hold you to that. I don't want any excuses or fighting when we tell you to take a break." Prowl tells him lightly, though he is giving him a stern look.

"I'll try." He says and the smallest of true smiles rest on his dermas. 

After his short cool down with Prowl he leads Optimus to the factory that had been quickly renovated to be a command center. He has to pause at not only the sheer size of the room, but how full it was. Mechas were almost packed shoulderstrut to shoulderstrut in some places with only so much room to maneuver.

Yet somehow Prowl makes his way through smoothly, and following him they make their way over to a landing where Jazz is leaning against a wall talking with the Prime-in-command. A soon as he sees them – _As soon as he sees Prowl more likely_ – Jazz stands up and waves to them. And the smile he has for Prowl has Optimus' dermas quirking up at the sight, even more so when it takes saying Jazz's name three times before he turns away from Prowl.

"Uh... hey OP. Somthin' you need?" Jazz asks nervously as Prowl looks away, his closely held field shirking even more.

"I just wanted to know where everyone younger than 20,000 stellar cycles was." Optimus says, hoping he didn't sound or look too giddy at catching the two ignoring the world around them for each other.

"Oh! Sure. So most are in med-tent 12. Don't worry! That’s for minor scraps. Both Wasp and Bee had some minor laser burns from their stint with the snipers - They're very thankful for that by the way, Bee's already eating it up - But yeah they're fine and Bulkhead's keeping them company —"

"You mean keeping them from sneaking out." Prowl adds.

"I have to agree with Prowl. That seems much more likely," Optimus says lightly, imagining Bulkhead blocking the exit, "And Blurr?"

"Honestly? Couldn't tell you. He was here than rushed out a few cycles ago. I'm sure he'll pop back in or comm if needed. He's probably doing some other Intelligence work on the side."

"Okay, as long as he wasn't hurt then —"

"— Optimus Prime. The bot behind this battle."

Jerking his helm up and looking over his shoulder Optimus finds a thousand optics on him and soon a million questions thrown his way, all about the Decepticons.

"Hey! Mute your vox's!" Paradron Prime shouts in his hoarse voice, "You're Elite Guard. Not some green cadets! He can't answer anything if y'all scream random aft questions left and right."

Turning to him the older Prime gestures for him to walk forward and address the crowd. Taking slow steps up he sets his vox to a higher volume setting and clears his intakes only for an arm to shoot up near him. Startled, Optimus has to recalibrate his optics as he looks down to a brightly yellow colored bot.

"Uh... yes?"

"I think we all just want to know if were under Decepticon rule now. Yes they helped us, _but_ what's stopping them from claiming Vehicon?"

As others agree with her their voices rises again, but Optimus stops it before it can reach the level it did before.

"Please settle down. I can't answer if there is yelling."

While they do calm down they don't look too happy about it. Now all Optimus had to do was convince them that this idea he had proposed to the Council was actually a good idea and worth the effort.

"Thank you. Now I know you're all concerned with this arrangement. But Ultra Magnus is asking us to form a joint effort in these difficult times," And using Ultra Magnus' designation does seem to quell the crowd more, "Our way of life is at stake and more so if we act on opinions instead of facts. We can't work as we should if we do and that seems counteractive to me since we pride ourselves on being fair and knowledgeable. I know this is an enormous ask of all of us, but I believe we can make this work. We can adapt."

That spark a round of murmurs and perplex stares. Optimus knows he has to word this right to get them to be more open-processored about this, but he can't help looking away for a moment to Prowl and Jazz. Seeing them discretely nod back Optimus vents and pushes forward hoping to sway their thinking.

"We were made for adapting and I know some of you are remembering what your instructors said, 'That we're all cogs in the great Autobot machine. Better as a whole than the sums of its part.' I'm not saying it's wrong, just there's more to it than something so simple and one dimensional."

Something he had learned by being a leader on a faraway organic planet with no back-up. It was the roughest learning curve he had ever had and it made Optimus adapt his processing so he could try to be the best leader for his team in those difficult times.

"Every cog and bolt serves a different purpose and can do something different from the other. That uniqueness allows us to be flexible at adapting and overcoming certain terrain or various problems. That's what makes an army strong."

"But the Decepticons. They're... They're the enemy?" A white and teal mech speaks up and is soon followed by murmurs of approval.

"They are... They were," Optimus corrects himself, "But right now they are allies to fight a greater evil against our whole species."

He's quiet to see if anyone else wanted to voice an opinion, but at the silences he continues.

"I know we've been taught to be wary of them and that makes it more daunting. And I can say in my short time of fighting Decepticons it was terrifying. But remember the majority of us were never in the thick of the Great War. We don't know the struggles or the lengths either side truly went to. All we have is what our instructors told us and our history. And again I'm not disputing that its wrong, but I ask you to remember it was written by us, the victors of the war. This is the first time for many of us that we are seeing a battlefield and it's horrors. That we are seeing a Decepticon not in a holovid. And think about it - Are they so different from us, fundamentally? They are as much apart of Cybertron as we are, even if we don't want to acknowledge it. And because of that they don't want Cybertron to fall into the servos of an invasive race either. We all won't survive if we fight each other before it begins. The Great War was with our ancestors and right now this is our war. This war is for our planet, but also for the safety of our race."

As the stares start to become softer and more considering Optimus becoming embolden by the positive response.

"Because of that we can - we will succeed! And not only that, but we have the chance to do something different. Something that has never been done. To have real peace. It's a lofty goal, but if we shun it now we're no better than the warmongering we accuse the Decepticons of," Optimus knew that would draws plenty of shock and apprehensive looks, but they continue to listen and that's all Optimus needs, "High Command is asking us to trust the Decepticons enough to survive. It won't be easy, but nothing in life ever is. If that works, and it will, I am asking you to trust in your Council to make sure that we'll all be safe at the end of this. That all Cybertronians are safe and whole. We can only do that if we stand together."

"Hhn. 'Til all are one then?" 

Optimus' helm snaps over to Paradron Prime as the old mech looks him over thoughtfully before his faceplates lighten into a small proud smile. Optimus is stunned by the treasured phrase and tries to say something, but can't form any words that could come after that. And by the time he might it's too late.

The chanting is thunderous and muted at the same time, his audials burning with overlaying static. And looking out over the masses Optimus' chassis constricts, a crushing weight sitting on his spark, burning to a point that Optimus is sure the heat he's generating will melt right through him. So loss in the reaction he jumps as a cool servo rests on his shoulder. Glancing back he see Jazz with an encouraging grin.

"This may actually work." Prowl says quietly, and all too loudly as he comes to stand next to him.

They...They were trusting him. All of them were trusting him now.

_ I can't let them down. They're all counting on me._

As the chants grow in volume Megatron’s view of the crowd is slowly changed from the stage, to the floor of a factory, to the surroundings area of iron soil and titan Boron trees before going dark. Leaning back in his chair he steeples his servos in thought.

_This is going to become an issue._

If it was going to become a severe problem remained to be seen, but he had come to a resolution for one such possibility. Megatron had been slow to act because in his fascination he had briefly forgotten his goal and the well-being of his Decepticons. Nothing was higher than that.

The original plan wouldn’t due, to woo and incorporate Optimus into his fold. A challenge, but a welcome one he knew he would win. But now Megatron would need to keep the Prime here permanently as he was showing promise as a certain herald to the Autobot Cause. No herald of Autobot nobility -_ Even if he was in a different way _\- and the panic and disarray would settle in naturally as would the blame game the Autobots played so well.

Hearing the doors open behind him Megatron opens his optics as Shockwave comes to stand beside his throne having returned from being undercover at the factory to see what the other Autobots had dragged Optimus away for.

“He certainly has a way with words.”

"He does indeed. And an affect on the masses," Shockwave agrees, "He'll need to be monitored."

'Til all are one' was not something that had been utter since the Great War, a rallying cry to mark a return to normality and equality for Autobots, and Optimus had inadvertently added to it as being together as one race. Thoughtful and naïve as well as a wanted idea, Decepticon freedoms were more important than an Autobot’s perceived goodness.

"He will, but I’ve come to a conclusion about the endgame of my Token." Megatron tells him and feels Shockwave's stoic field ripple.

"Whatever it is my liege I will happily serve you in that endeavor." The spy says in a lightly spirited manner.

_I know you will._

Megatron thinks wryly to himself as he remembers the glares of hatred that Shockwave pointed at Optimus.

"Excellent because it involves your hacking skills. When this treaty falls through at the end of this war I want Optimus Prime captured and his processor dissected and set up to run simulations and use his wireless connections to the Archives." Megatron explains.

It would leave him a shell of a bot, only rudimentary skills and no higher functions. He would simply be sitting pretty in a room giving them unfettered access to all of Cybertron’s hard-wired systems. They would know every move by the Council and be able to corrupt any program as they pleased. Every department at one point required information at least once from the Archives and thus created a basic linkup. With those networks set in place they only needed an unknowing key to open up every avenue.

Shockwave's field ripples with awestruck praise as he struggles to speak, “My liege-I-This is brilliant! From there I-I could easily have a link to almost any system." 

"Exactly. We will take back our planet with their own unknown secret weapon." Megatron rumbles, but the declaration doesn’t leave him with the level of satisfaction he was expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explanations, Fighting, and Plot! Hurray!
> 
> TFA: The most aggressive ‘Notice me senpai!’ campaign ever ໒( ⇀ ‸ ↼ )७ ̑̑༉  
Don't worry Optimus, Megatron sees you, but it’s not for the best reasons. Yet.
> 
> Qidried Notes!  
\- Another long live species, but I'm capping their life expectancy at no more than 1 million. Life was rough for like the first thousand of years after the Squids left and took way longer to reinstate stuff along with inter squabbles. So even though it's a couple generations removed what happened to them is still affecting them today and they are rightly pissed.  
\- Tau-Ursa is a planet from the Vestial Imperium and Ehni's family has control over it.  
\- Potentious is obvious the royal title for the Qidried, but it doesn't change title regardless of gender.  
\- Grand Thyous is basically like an Admiral or General, but with the ability to make free choices independent of the Crown. They're told to go conquer and they can do so by any means.  
\- Season is a year and Hecai is a month


	11. (“Respect”);

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This became a lot longer than I anticipated, but I think it's worth it since it lays down the groundwork of some plot/relations.  
Also there's like a weird not-flashback for Blurr at the beginning. I didn't think I needed to add any fun gimmicks, but it still might be confusing so just a heads-up.  


Sneaking down any section of corridor was a new challenge for Blurr as his light blue paint was akin to neon in the low lights of the _Talon_. Moving down another empty hallway, Blurr continues to catalog dimensions and power flow as Intel had never been this close or inside these newer Decepticon cruisers. Zipping pass a set of wide open door Blurr sees its a loading bay and detours back into the enormous room, slipping behind crates to view the work and see what the Cons were moving.

But he finds his attention drawn in by the ring system of a small planet outside, pinging his memory of his run back.

The exhilaration of not only running through space, but the growing anxiety that he wouldn't be fast enough to maintain it. That he wouldn't be fast enough to warn —

Snapping his optics close Blurr tries to push back the emotions and scenes of that fateful solar cycle.

_I don't have time for this! And he doesn't need to take up anymore space in my processor._

No sooner had Blurr thought that the memory files were already playing before his optics.

Crashing back on Cybertron. Running to Longarm's office and it not opening. Cliffjumper running in and telling him he needed to sit down. The minibot telling him about what he found when he came back from checking on the interns solar cycles ago. _He can't - won't believe it!_ Stupidly hacking into the police records and not letting the classified firewalls stop him, using what Longarm had taught him and finding the image capture... finding the image captures brakes him. Ripping his data cable from Cliff's system and... and crashing back into a sensor-filled horrorscape as his optics try to re-calibrate, his audials pop open to the world around him, his frame burns like a smelter. His engine screams and his pumps were on fire as his vox resets and he's screaming, begging it all to be a nightmare.

Thankfully, Blurr only experiences the faint pain of his engine sputtering as he holds himself. Swiftly leaving the loading bay he tries to get his processor back in order, telling himself he wasn't still effected by this, but the memories keep coming.

Waking up in medical and being told that he had pushed his systems to a dangerous limit unseen to get back to Cybertron. Asking about Longarm and being denied, even sedated. Ultra Magnus offering condolences and that cemented that Longarm was offline. Ultra Magnus asking for his audio recording of the spy so Fortress Maximus techs could work on it and before he could ask to help bring the shadowy figure to justice Blurr is dismissed for being too close to the case.

_Longarm is dead. Period. He technically didn't exist. Just ignore it!_

And yet, the idea of him still haunted him.

When Optimus told him he was free to leave Blurr hadn't let him finish the sentence before telling him he'd stay on with his team. Even now Blurr wasn't sure what his motivations behind the choice were. True, he could do more on the battlefront from here at the center of the action, but he also knew he selfishly enjoying the company here. Optimus' team was nice enough and actively included him in refuel breaks and the like, but he still did spent most of his time with Jazz. The reason being that he knew him the longest and the Cyber-ninja was the only one on Cybertron that could really understand him.

That was besides the mecha who was lying to him.

Trying to reconcile that divide was like looking at two ends of a spectrum simultaneously. The real Longarm, the real Shockwave that is, was overly tall, looming, and impassive. A terrifying unknown even with all the information they had on file for the Con. It just couldn't compare to being in the same room as him. That's why the divide was so disturbing. The persona the Decepticon lieutenant had put on was shy and unassuming. He was diligent in his work and quietly snarky, but also oddly oblivious to the way Cybertron operated, which made sense now that Blurr knew he’s a Con.

It had to be why Shockwave attached himself to someone who would give him information readily. And it didn’t help that Blurr loved to talk and he was drawn to 'Longarm' the instant he saw him.

On the very first solar cycle of their internship, Blurr met the stout bot when he entered Metroplex's Intelligence Sector to find he wasn't the only one who thought to show up early. His duller colors caught Blurr's optics as did Longarm's voice. It was a perfect blend of sonorous and steady that was unbelievably soothing to his finely tuned audials that Blurr wanted to hear it as often as he could. Which is why he was caught of guard when Longarm had asked him to stay after they introduced themselves. He listened to his waves of speech the whole extra megacycle, which was about everything and anything, with a gentle look in his optics as he asked his own questions as well. And the positive response had Blurr talking even more.

Their meetings after that were brief as Blurr found Longarm was as much of a workaholic as him. But the short meetings were welcomed as no other cadets tried to stayed long enough to understand what Blurr was saying and he couldn't deny his happiness looking forward to those short, but friendly moments. Longarm would always have something intelligent to say or ask that had Blurr researching it all night and coming back the next cycle prepared with an answer. It was all to see that twinkle in Longarm's optics when he learned something new. And during the internship Longarm offered to help as much as he asked for assistance, not so prideful to try something only to hurt himself in the process, unlike a few others in their internship. He was someone to rely on and Blurr never feared asking something of him, that's how he got advice to improve his hacking dives without being too invasive. 

After graduation and his glowing report from his superiors, Blurr was assigned permanent duty with Intelligence and was thrilled, even more so when he heard Longarm would as well.

But Blurr already knew they had to have chosen Longarm as well. They would be silly to past him by... and how wrong they had been to allow him in. But he was very good at what he set out to do. And now that Blurr thinks about it, 'Longarm's' promotion came very soon after Highbrow Prime’s disappearance and that couldn’t have been a coincidence. But Longarm remained the same, not boastful or rude, unlike some Majors or Primes he could mention and Blurr was sure that's why no one gave it a second thought.

Blurr knows he didn't.

Then came a solar cycle that Blurr had archived and protected fiercely behind three levels of firewall; It was his promotion to off-world fieldwork. Longarm told him the news over a late cube one night cycle, happily stating when he saw Blurr's file come up for promotion in fieldwork and he was excited he could add him to the team. He knew he had the skills to back up the promotion and Longarm wanted to be closer to his friend... Except they were just pretty words, a lie. But Longarm's field had been as genuine as his smile when he shared the news.

Then the golden moment that sealed Blurr's fate was something so small he knew others would laugh at it.

_Longarm stepped away from his new desk and there along with his terminal and title card was a moving miniature solar system moving at it correct speeds. _ _A working system of Ogygia with it's six planets circling their sun, Navitas._

_Stepping closer, he is mesmerized by the gift, trying to look for all the littlest details, "For me?"_

_"It has been expressed to me that it was important and customary to have some decorations for a permanent office and... and as a sign of congratulations." Longarm tells him, looking away shyly when he turns to meet his friend's optics._

_"But-you-don't-like-them." He says with a fond smile._

_"Of course not. They’re horrid clutter," And all the shyness is gone, replaced with a disgruntled look. But as Longarm looks back at him it smooths out, "But I know you enjoy tiny bobbles and that's the point." Longarm tells him, a rare smile all his to see._

It was a desk ornament. But Longarm had gifted it to him. Had thought of him when getting the miniature Velocitron customizes to show holographic updates on Prix races just so he could book in-advance leave to go compete himself if he wanted. It was extremely thoughtful and so sweet that Blurr knew any hope of being the utmost professional about their friendship was gone.

From then on Blurr took every opportunity to go out on assignment so he could keep his lovesick secret quiet. But then he went over and above so when he came back he could see Longarm's tiny smile as he reviewed his report. Blurr even went on any mission Longarm personally asked of him. None of them were ever outright malicious when he thinks about it, but if he had any idea of what 'Longarm' truly was he would have questioned. He would have —

Stopping at a diverging hallway Blurr drops his helm into his servos with a heavy groan.

_Done what? I didn't know and he played it too well for anyone else to notice. I can't keep doing this. Thinking about him. What good am I as an Intel_ _agent if I stay distracted in 'enemy' territory._

Venting deeply he almost didn't hear the creak behind him. Quickly spinning around, Blurr finds himself faceplates to faceplates with the one bot he didn't want to see and fights the fury welling up inside him as he stands only a few mechanometers away from Shockwave. The Con's dark paint blends in with the swatches of darkness in between the ship's low lights, the only thing giving him away is his singular optic. Perfectly camouflaged once again made for a frightening image, but Blurr wasn't scared of him, just angry with the memories he kept. His opposite takes a step closer to him and Blurr make to move,

"I can control the blast doors," Shockwave says in a low tone, "It would not be wise to leave."

"Then-I-really-can't." Blurr answers dryly.

Helm titling the barest to the right, Shockwave studies him before slowly blinking, "No... But I would ask you to stay. You have been quite elusive these past two decacycles."

A chilling laugh fills the hall and it takes a nanoklik for Blurr to realize it was him. Composing himself, Blurr glares up at his former Prime and 'friend'.

"I-wonder-why-that-is?" He deadpans, "And-you-lost-the-privilege-to-ask-me-anything-when-you-lied-to-me."

"I did not.”

Glaring harder Blurr can feel himself starting to vibrate in anger at that lie and it seems to daunt the Decepticon somewhat with his antlers titling forward.

“If you categorize it as lying I can promise I will not do so now." Shockwave attempts to assure him.

"Really?" Blurr asks and gets an almost hurried nod in returned.

Watching Shockwave, Blurr doesn't notice he had started to pace until he's asking questions.

"What-are-you-then? How-do-you-posses-multiple-forms? I've-concluded-there-is-at-least-four,-but-that's-not-possible. At-least-without-enhancements-that-are-not-known-to-the-Ministry-of-Science."

"I am one of a kind,” Shockwave informs him, his field very proud of that fact, “A Quad Changer if you will."

Halting at such an odd and completely unheard concept Blurr's curiosity gets the better of him as he steps closer to run low level scans over Shockwave's frame. But something interferes and focusing on Shockwave's optic Blurr feels the smug emotion move in his field.

"How-is-that-possible-then?" He asks instead of acknowledging what he had just done.

"After Blackarachnia perfected the Triple Changer Initiative she reformatted me, giving me two extra forms along with my ability to stretch."

"So-that-you-could-infiltrate-the-Autobot-ranks." Blurr fills in. It was a statement of a fact, not a question, but Shockwave still nods in agreement.

"Yes. It was a simple mission, for the betterment of the Cause, you understand. You were not suppose to be apart of the plan... And yet...."

Finally moving his large, but lithe frame, the Con doesn't even make a sound as he moves to reach out for him. Blurr will not be intimidated and stands still, waiting for the perfect moment to run. But as a sharp claw, with the utmost care, lifts his chin up to look directly into the Decepticon's optic it conveys something Blurr doesn't recognized in it's too bright gaze. It also wasn't helping that the touch was gentle and yet made him so aware of just how sharp one claw, how all his claws, were. How dangerous Shockwave was. Even if he wasn't hurting him now - at least not physically - he was a threat. 

"Blurr...," He says slowly, his resonant voice caressing his name, "I do apologize."

It's like a chilled breeze goes over all his internal components as Blurr gawks at the other. This-This _Decepticon_ can't be so casual about this! He couldn't just act like those three words meant anything after what he had done.

_It's too late for that!_

The words were on the tip of his glossa. But Blurr couldn't say them. He wants to. He thinks? But he never says anything that he doesn't mean. And —

_And I don't mean it..... Is it not too late?_

Blurr questions himself, confused as his spark spins in frantic motions as the pent-up emotions he hadn't let go of wash over him and leaves him stuck like his pedes are magnetized to the floor. He didn't know what to do at this crossroads so he does the only thing he can.

He runs. 

Sprinting down the halls Blurr feels overwhelming relief. This he could control and he needed some semblance of it right now. But no sooner did Blurr have that was it challenged with doors and walls starting to close in as he ran through the empty and populated halls, surprised noises from the Decepticons he passed and the faux atmosphere of the ship whistling by his audials. Dodging them the doors began to speed up in their closing and he can see them closing at least three doors ahead of him. Drifting around a corner Blurr slides under another door only to find the one on the other side is closed and with a thud behind him any hope for an escape is gone. 

Zipping back and forth Blurr looks for a way to disengage the blast doors, shouting all the while, "Longarm! Longarm! Shockwave! Whatever-you-go-by! Let-me-go! I’m-not-playing-these-games-with-you! Let-me-go! Let-me-go! _LetmegoLetmegoLetmego!_"

But after three cycles and no change Blurr falls back against the door that was locked before him and slides down it, "Please-just-let-me-go."

Looking up from his slouch he sees the hint of something that looks like a camera. Scanning for low range transmissions he finds the pinprick of a camera and looks directly into it. 

"Show me it wasn’t all a game. You said you weren't lying anymore. Prove it." His vox catching on his words as he speaks through his anguish.

With nothing else to do in this small box of hallway Blurr leans back to wait to see if a Decepticon could be merciful. HA! As if.

As Blur waits he starts counting the nanokliks and his legs structs start bouncing up and down. Trying to expels the building energy by tapping his digits on the floor Blurr only gets to forty kilks before feeling like his armor was starting to buckle into his mostly exposed protoform and light plating. He hadn't felt this immobile since his short, but horrible stint as Master Disaster's puppet on Earth. The inactivity was getting to him as was his fear of being inhibited. The mere thought has his spark spinning even faster in his chassis —

"Hff!"

Suddenly on his back Blurr finds himself looking up at two large sets of optics.

"Ha! Wasp right! There was no wall. Bumble wrong. Very wrong." Wasp grins behind his upturn intake guard.

"Yeah yeah whatever," Bumblebee rolls his optics before looking back down, "What are you doing on the ground?"

"Ground? What-ground? Oh! This-ground? Nothing! Nothing-at-all. Just-familiarizing-myself-with-the-ship’s-rooms-and-functions-like-any-good-intelligence-agent-would-do. Longarm-Prime-would —" And his vox kicks out like a crash when Blurr processes what he was saying.

"Shockwave did this." Bumblebee says, sounding weirdly somber.

"What-would-make-you-think-that?" Blurr deflects, ignoring the fact that these two bots were the only ones that could truly understand what he was going through.

"Because he’s creepy and mean." Wasp snaps, which Bumblebee nods at enthusiastically.

"And you know if he could —"

"It’snothingreally," Blurr cuts off the yellow mech too quickly that he gets himself twin looks of pity. Standing up, he tries to smile, but knows it’s more of a grimace, "I’m-just-going-to-be-on-my-way."

Rushing off with no true destination in mind Blurr doesn't hear Bumblebee and Wasp agree to tell Optimus about this incident.

  


Rolling his sore neck to one side Megatron pushes and untangles one cable that had been caught behind another. Freeing it is a relief, but he knew it would happen soon enough as he had been planning for his attack on the Vespa System for several solar cycles straight as his armada was reaching the next system much quicker than he had first assumed.

He had to take in multiple factors, especially because he had left a small battalion to help the Autobots protect the Bikon system and he would be leading a fully space based campaign for this system. The Autobots were holding ground on the main planet, but lacked reinforcements or ships to leave the sieged planet. After the Defense of Vehicon and the Decepticons helping to secure nearby Terrecon they had full access to the system's energy to resupply, which helped greatly with the stalemate they endure on Cruellock. The next planet liberated was Praum and that was much of the same, but with more resources at their disposal they took the single planet with ease.

With Vespa, it was wholly different.

It was a system of violent beginnings. There were remnants of at least two planets scattered throughout the system giving each of the five surviving planets a set of rings while there was also debris floating through dead space and the system itself possessed two wide asteroid ecliptics. Megatron was taking the asteroid-ridden system because of his experience of fighting in a vacuum and mining operations, which there were plenty of stations to hide out on for ambushes. The general layout of the plan was to have Strike Squadron infiltrate the Qidrieds' communication array and deflect any alerts to their presence so his Decepticons could take back control of most of the small mining operations before launching ambushes on the three smaller colony worlds before attacking Vespa and the Qidriedian Legion that awaited them there.

Meanwhile, they now had the strength and resources to separate the armada. Strika would be breaking off soon to handle the Salvvatan System as the tiny blue Autobot had expressed the importance of the Space Bridge Nexus there as a gateway to the outer parts of the Commonwealth. Having control of that would make it far easier to move his forces. 

But stepping away from his plans of conquest and glory Megatron was giving himself a break to stretch his leg structs on the upper decks. As he passes another window he takes in the peculiar distant scene of a star cluster orbiting itself in the deadly dance of gravity. Turning his attention away from the window, Megatron finds that he wasn't the only one taking in the sight.

Further down the hall Optimus was standing in front of another deck window, his servos fidgeting as his faceplates was turned down in a state of dismay. Then with a purely painful look he pulls out a wound up ball of metal twine and begins to play with it. Creating complex shapes and venting in time as he stares at his servos with a frantic gleam. But as the nanokliks pass his expression becomes more and more anxious and his frame starts shaking. Closing his optics tightly, Optimus untangles his digits and subspaces the twine again and begins harshly rubbing at his armor.

Megatron was unsure of what was happening and had a strong feeling he should leave the Autobot be, but he was too curious and wondered how the Autobot would react to his presence. 

"I’m surprise you’re here." He says lowly.

Immediately Optimus is standing ramrod straight and his vents flex to suck in the atmosphere of the ship loudly before slamming shut. Taking a few steps back at the display Megatron waits to see if there would be anymore of a response. Though that seems to be it as Optimus clenches his servos into fists and turns stiffly with a blank look, almost haunted, with the bluish light coming in from the starboard window casting an eerie shadow. 

“Megatron," Optimus greets him in a flat tone, "Where else would I be?” He asks.

Strolling forward, Megatron keeps an optic on any sudden movements, but Optimus is as solid as a block of titanium, "Behind a desk I imagine," Megatron says casually as he comes to a stop in front of his Token.

And just like that Optimus' frame becomes taunt for another reason as he looks up in mild disdain.

"Maybe if I had one. Either way I’ve finished all my datawork, thank you very much."

"That would explain the vacant gaze into the abyss."

Optimus is quiet at his offhanded comment, his face dropping into indifference as he turns to peer out the window, clearly contemplating something heavy.

"... Sometimes it’s nice get lost in its nothingness." Comes his soft response and he looks more akin to how Megatron found him.

"Yes, but sometimes if we let it take over our processors it can take us to equally dark places." Megatron offers, seeing that talking kept Optimus focused on the here and now.

"... Yes it does," Optimus says eventually as he stares more at his reflection then the stars. Much sooner than Megatron expected Optimus looks up at him, "Is there a reason you came to talk to me?"

"I believe I have the right to speak to you whenever I wish," He says lightly, but instead of the usual snip of sarcasm Optimus turns away defeated, venting a sad sigh. Raising an optic ridge at the abnormal reaction Megatron reminds himself he had caught the Autobot at a vulnerable time. Folding his arms behind his back Megatron matches his stance and tries again, "Is it so impossible to believe that I would not just speak with you because I possess simple manners."

"Well you did just make it clear that this was all pleasantries and before that you were making existential comments."

"That I was," Frowning at the answer, but it was an easy enough problem he could lie his way out of, "...The real reason I sought you out was to ask if you would like to join Strika on her ground assault for the Salvvatan system in three solar cycles time? You seemed eager to go after you added your proposal yesterday."

Optimus' brow furrows and Megatron feels a brief ripple of apprehension in his field at the mention of Strika only for it to be followed by confusion. Both easily explained by Strika's regular dismissive and combative attitude towards Optimus and himself not letting the Autobot stray too far. In the past two orbital cycle he hadn't so much as left his side so letting the Little Prime go to a whole new system was quite a leap from the usual status quo.

"You showed adequate skills on Praum and Vehicon."

Then a tiny disbelief expression appears across Optimus' faceplates as he looks up, "Adequate?"

"Yes."

"Those adequate skills saved your life. What is it now? Four times?" And the disbelief morphs into a tiny, but confident smirk.

Giving him a noncommittal hum and shrug the Autobot actually smiles, though lightly.

“To answer your question, it wouldn't be right if I didn’t do what I asked of others Megatron."

"No. No you would not."

"... Was that a compliment?" Optimus asks looking bemused before his face falls in distress, but Megatron plays along.

"Interpret it as you must. I said what I said,” But he feels his derma quirk into a smirk, “Very well Little Prime, you can accompany Strika and her battalion. You may also request a small team."

That seems to calm Optimus as relief races through his field before settling, "I can?"

"I don’t see why not. Though you have six to chose from, whatever shall you do with your myriad of choices?"

"How many can I pick then?"

"Three."

"Okay. I can make that work," Folding his arms, Optimus glances up with a calculating look in his optics, "The reason why?"

"Because I say so."

"So leverage," Optimus concludes correctly and Megatron has to roll his optics at how easily the Little Prime was picking up on his tactics, "This is going to be tricky. Don't look so surprised it's difficult to pair them up sometimes," Waving his skeptical look away.

"As long as you provide me with the designations by tomorrow," Megatron tells him before turning away, "I have things to attend to. I will leave you to your sightseeing and decision-making."

"Megatron."

Stopping by the window he stood at first Megatron does turn back to sees a nervous expression directed at him.

"I ...Thank you... For this arrangement," Optimus stutters, but holds his gaze, "You didn’t have, but... Thank you."

Megatron was not expecting to hear those two words from the Autobot Prime ever, but turning fully to face him he doesn't let his surprise show.

"I’m not the complete monster the Autobots have made me out to be. Besides, civilized discussions will have the treaty resembling something beneficial for both sides. It is the only way the rights of life will eventually be realized. Think of it as us building better relations."

His answer brings a small smile to Optimus' dermas before he's turning back to the window, appearing leagues more in control than when Megatron first found him.

Walking back to his office, Megatron thinks about his answer and how he had to actively excluded that the verbal game they played was an interesting factor he wished to continue. Talking with the Little Prime wasn't a chore or mind-numbing like it had been when trying to convince the Council to listen to him and later when they force the Accords on them. Plus, teasing the smaller mech was always good fun.

Stepping into the elevator Megatron replays their conversation and barely starts it before deciding that he should get the Autobot a desk. It would be easier to track him down if he gave him a space to become an office. And Megatron would need a permanent place for Optimus Prime when he was using him as his secret key to retake Cybertron.

  


"Dion Major of Salvvatan VI, sub-commander of the Salvvatan System." The older and taller femme introduces herself, holding out a partially sand weathered servo.

Glancing up to sees how Cyclonus would react he sees the warrior’s staring blankly off into the horizon while being his usual silence self. Seeing as he wouldn't be taking the servo Optimus steps forward and greets their contact. Already the meeting wasn't going well as Aries Prime, the system's and planetary commander, wasn't here to meet them and Strika opted out of meeting any Autobots she didn't deem necessary. Which was all of them. Cyclonus was only here because Optimus was following the rules he agreed to.

"Optimus Prime. Planetary Commander of Earth. Prime of Team Sol. This is Cyclonus of Team Charr."

A jolt of concern goes through her field at hearing that, but settles soon after. Standing taller, Dion spares Cyclonus a glance before she smiles down at him, "I've heard of you from Kup Minor so I'm expecting good things. Such as keeping us safe from anything unwanted." She says friendly enough, but Optimus could hear the pointed question.

"I hope I'm not expected to handle something so juvenile," Optimus says coolly, "I realize that war sometimes creates uncomfortable allies, but you should remind our forces that we are that; allies. Though unlikely allies we would all like to make it through this alive. Losing strength on any side, no matter how small, because we forget its Cybertronians against the Qidrieds will jeopardized the objective, Major."

Dion stares at him before she huffs out a rough laugh that dislodges some of the sand from her golden and blue frame, "Kup wasn’t joking when he said you may look and act hesitant like a zap-mouse —"

_Kup! Why?!_

"— but you’re as sharp as durabylluim-steel with a bite like a razorsnake. You've got no time for hassle just like me," She tells him with a broad grin before it turns serious, "I don’t like it this and I doubt dark and gloomy does either, but don't worry I’ll make sure my troops understand our situation."

Optimus relaxes at the more accommodating attitude, it was more than he was expecting, "Thank you Major."

Waving his ‘thank you’ away she hands over the datapad with the Autobots' plans for today's battle.

"Oh! Before I go," And Optimus receives a databyte from her that immediately shows him that it had scanning parameters, "I bet the Cons don't carry Autobot size alt designs." She says with a wink.

And she would be correct. The last two times they needed to revert back to their basic modes until they could meet with some of the Autobot forces to get some new alt modes. The byte carried almost every frame for Salvvatan VI's rolling deserts and savannas, and the modes were similar to Praum so getting used to driving on this terrain would be easier to navigated than the last time.

"Thank you."

"Any time Prime." She says before transforming into a hauling vehicle and speeding off faster than he expected.

"Come," Cyclonus’ deep voice rumbles next to him, "We need to get back to base."

Quickly scanning one of the forms closest to the firetruck motif he had been keeping with Optimus takes off with Cyclonus shadowing him closely from above. Getting back to the mostly finished base camp he barely transforms before Strika is holding a servo out for the datapad. Handing it over he tries to keep himself from feeling annoyed at the brief swipe of her field, filled with nothing but disgust for him. Knowing his presence or help was not welcome Optimus goes off to help Bulkhead with setting up their communication with the Autobots so everyone could see what was going on for their side.

* * *

_"Is this wise? He was to —"_

_"Are you questioning me Cyclonus? I have the information to handle this. And I cannot trust **him **to not loose anyone unnecessarily."_

Accidentally hearing the reasoning for why Strika was leaving him at the base with no access to the battle’s data was infuriating!

Did she really think he would endanger everything he and everyone else were sacrificing? Everything they did for every victory they pull through. At first he thought she was testing him and he just had no idea where the goal was. But now he knows it’s because Strika didn't want him in the way because she didn't trust him to help their side.

He could be useful if she let him, he could prove to her that he could handle this and anything else she threw at him. But only if he wasn't dismissed. Optimus was tired of being disregarded as nothing by Strika for something he didn't even ask for.... And he had a way to show the general what he was capable. That is if he was okay with risking the consequences.

But it was a perfect time to use his odd gift.

Striding into the war room Optimus nods to the few Decepticons in the room and takes up a free space around the sims board, taking out a light blue transparent visor.

_"Oh! If you’re going to help us you’re going to need to crunch data faster. I don’t have time for lags," And Tripline tosses him something, "Here you go."_

_But before telling the Decepticon he had the capabilities to keep up he’s catching the item, "A visor?" He questioned._

_"I snatched it off a bot way back when," Tripline waves his tentacle backwards and the way 'snatched' was said pointed to a nice way of saying murdered, "And I've been tweaking it ever since to work as a real-time mobile data screen and code breaker, but you’ll need it more. Can’t have you failing and putting us behind schedule. I don’t need that grief from Lord Megatron."_

_And shuddering at that thought Tripline grimaced before smirking evilly, "The upside is the growing clawing rage radiating off Shockwave because he isn’t the center of attention anymore," Tripline cackles before whispering to himself seriously, "It's like pure high grade."_

_Then with another evil cackle the Decepticon leaves him and Bumblebee standing confused in a random corridor._

_"He gave you a murder gift." Bumblebee whispers terrified._

_"Let’s not call it that."_

_"But that’s what it is."_

Looking over the visor once more Optimus lifts it and manually hard links it into his bolts. It snaps in and pinches from the less than delicate touch as he was no medic. But in no time Optimus can see data streaming in to connect with the Autobots' systems along with access that he wouldn't normally have. Codes for a datastream with the Decepticon's maniframe, which included comms and stats on all the Decepticons present in this system. Wasting no time Optimus draws out all four of his data cables and plugs into the war table and uplinks to the two systems simultaneously.

"Alright. Let's do this."

  


The battle had been going excellent.

Her soldiers were preforming with a ferocity she expected and making progress through the gorge. Meanwhile, the Autobots had started a fire-and-displace tactic, which Strika could tell would cause more difficulties for their win with the weak left flank showing. Keeping a close optic on the Autobots' overlooked supporting side Strika notices blurs of blue at the edges of both sides. At first she assumed it was a new unknown element from the Qidrieds and was prepare to destroy it during it's next pass. But it came close enough for her to see it was that speedster the Token had brought with him. 

Ignoring whatever he was doing Strika has her forces press forward through the gorge and gain a great deal of momentum, but something was off. She was noticing many long-range warriors closer to her than she would usually see at the front. Then whatever the Auotbots were trying, the Qidrieds broke through the line, destroying their chances of a pincer maneuver she was setting up for the Autobots.

Taking cover, like most of their combined forces behind the multiple homoclinal ridges, Strika assessed their options. None were optimal as her forces were separated and blended together and that ridiculous Aries Prime would not listen to reason. The only 'victory' was that the Qidrieds were in their same predicament placing their first battle as a stalemate. The usually approach was to lay cover fire, but it would not work as both flyers and seekers were currently engaged with other flying Qidrieds above and keeping more from joining the mid-air battle.

With the Prime being even more unhelpful than before Strika connects to Blackout's optical feed to view the battle as a whole. But what she sees is bizarre. Approaching from the west and the east are two teams of twenty Decepticons and Autobots that together fired upon and toppled some of the ridges to cut the Qidrieds' forces in half. Distracted, Strika takes the opportunity and has her warriors overwhelm the Qidrieds cut off from their support as the team of forty takes pot shots from the other side of the rock wall. The flying Qidrieds attempt cover fire, but the seekers coordinate a set of dive bombs and protective fire for the retreating team.

A Qidriedian retreat was immediate in any case and the Autobots made quick work of setting up a temporary base and look out point to survey the kilometers of land they won back. But Strika cared little for it, she had more pressing matters. As the team that caused the rockfall comes closer she could see who led the two groups as one.

"Razecutter."

"Dion!"

Turning to her right she spares a sneer for Aries Prime and turn back to the lieutenant that helped the Auotbot Major pull off this unplanned attack.

"Explain how this came to be?"

"You didn't give the orders?" Razecutter asks looking rightfully terrified for listening to orders not from her.

"Well I think what happened to me would be similar for Razecutter," Dion Major speaks up and draws Strika's attention to the Autobot, "I received an urgent message text telling me that I needed to fall back to coordinates -55.98, -156.55 for our next attack. When I did there were already some bots and cons there. We were briefed on how the Qids were slow to close ranks in their forward pursuit. If we attack at the right moment we could cut them off and take them out separately."

Though not the pincer move she had planned it had worked faultlessly in their favor, but it still left the mystery of who designed it.

"Who briefed you?"

"One of the Autobots with us General," Razecutter says lowly, finally finding his vox, "The blue speedster."

Of course, the speedster was being someone's optics and audios scoping out the battlefield. Somehow with that small amount of data they had fabricated the stalemate to create the perfect group to pull off a counterattack.

"Who gave the orders?" Aries Prime demands and it's the only time she would agree with this Autobot.

"Optimus Prime." Dion Major answers causing every Decepticon around to cringe and turn away in discomfort.

The Token! A Token had usurped control of her elite and servo-picked warriors! She who had clawed her way through her function and towards her rank through too many battles to count, only to be spurned by an Autobot!

Strika doesn't remember recalling her forces or heading back to her base of operations as fury wracking every system. Stomping into the war room she sees the Token standing next to the thin speedster and plugged into the large circular sims board. This meant he had access to more data than she was expecting and looking at him sees he's more capable than she first thought. Strika watches him create - with ease! - three possible scenarios for attacking the Qidrieds at the Bismuth Plateaus. But more importantly he was so deep in a datastream that he was oblivious to her or the looks of fear around him.

Closing the distance Strika reaches out and grabs hold of two cables knowing they are very sensitive if they weren't retracted correctly. Effects included pain towards light, audio, and external sensors to name a few, but Strika was aiming to make a point. Pulling them free – despite the blue Autobot crying out for her not to – Strika pays him no mind as the action was what she would classify as a gentle tug. But it had a wildly different result and for half a nanoklik the noises the Token makes has her thinking that she killed him.

It didn’t.

He was fragile, but not as much as she had first assumed. Crouching over the downed Autobot his smaller contemporary pulls the Token protectively against their chassis as he spasms against the sudden disruption. Strika can tell she has just enough time to threaten the Token before he has to reboot as a safety measure against sensory surcharge and possible leftover data corruption.

"You-can’t-just—!"

"Say anything and I vill make sure you are kept in close quarters vith our head spy." She warns coldly and watches in interest as the speedster's intake snaps shut and stares at her in horror.

It apparently paid to listen to that piece of gossip.

Ignoring the speedster for her true problem she takes hold of the Token's face, "Are you rebooting?" 

With no answer she squeezes tighter and receives a wobbly static-filled answer, "Ha...ha...half....cycle."

"Good. Listen and listen vell," She rumbles angrily and delights in the pain he experiences from her actions, "You are not to order my soldiers ever again Autobot or I vill do more than severing your connection uplink. Do you understand?"

With a shudder his optics roll up in his helm and he falls limp against the other Autobot before he can answer. Disgusted with the weak display she stands and drops the cables on top of him.

"Cyclonus. Take him to medical."

He moves forward to remove the other data cables, but the thin Autobot beats him too it and protectively holds his servos over them, glaring at him like a caged mechanimal. Cyclonus doesn't react for a moment before he swiftly grabbing both of the Autobot's wrists, shocking the speedster, then going about removing the cables. Still holding the struggling Autobot, Cyclonus bends down to rest the cables across the Token's chassis before letting go of the speedster so he could pick up the Token.

Glancing down he tells the blue Autobot, "You can come if you like." And then turns to leave.

The speedster begins to leave before turning back and attempting to glare at her. But a mere mention of what will happen if he says anything has him turning away and swiftly following after Cyclonus. Turning to the sparsely filled room everyone quickly moves back into motion, acting as if they weren't all watching the spectacle.

  


_It's just a check-in. I shouldn't be this unnerved. _

Though with everything going on, wartime and personal agendas alike, it would be more surprising if Prowl wasn't anxious about this communication. With a ping the comm. hub goes from a spinning Decepticon insignia to being illuminated by Jazz's smiling derams.

"Hey Pro... Is something wrong?" Jazz frowns moving closer to the screen.

Sighing, Prowl looks away, "I was hoping I wasn't too blatant in my worry."

"You don't need to hide that. Especially from me," Jazz tells him, and the understanding tone has Prowl looking back to the screen, "There we are. Now tell me what's happenin'?"

"I should talk about the raids, but something more important has come up," Frown deepening as he says blithely, "Shockwave cornered Wasp."

"What?!"

Even though Prowl couldn't feel the seething anger rolling off Jazz he could clearly see it and hear it, "He later said it was so he could have Wasp tell me about a meeting with Megatron but..."

"You could see through that like a cleaned windshield. Slag! How bad did it get?"

"I don't know what he did exactly, but when I couldn't comm. Wasp I went looking for him. I found him curled into a ball under one of the engines with slightly melted armor from the heat. And it wasn't like the usual panic attacks. This time he was hallucinating," Thinking about how inconsolable Wasp was and how he had to knock him out so the hurting minibot wouldn't injure himself crawled in his tanks still, "Most of the rambling I couldn't make out, but what I could amounted to him telling me he had done nothing wrong and didn't want to go back."

Jazz shakes his head in disgust, "That's ... I can't put into words. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you Prowl. Or be there for Wasp. How's he doin' now?

"He's doing better, but he won't leave his room and I can clearly see he's becoming more and more claustrophobic."

Given the circumstances they were not allowed to leave the ship at all. That wouldn't have been a problem if Shockwave wasn't taking his ire out on Wasp because Optimus selected Blurr to come with him. His constant stalking of the speedster had left Blurr continuously anxious and they all agreed he needed to get away. And if he decided to stay with the Autobot forces in the Salvvatan System they would understand.

Prowl had been left in charge of the rest of their small team, but he had already failed Optimus and he was barely gone for two decacycles. He knew he couldn’t bargain for anything with Megatron. Optimus was the one with some compromising powers and his Prime was dealing with his own problems.

"There's a storage space on deck 18 that isn't used often," Jazz voices thoughtfully and draws Prowl's attention back to him, "It's large enough to make even the biggest bot feel kinda small."

With a light smile he marks the location on his internal maps for later, "Thank you for the suggestion. I'll see what Wasp thinks of it."

"Cool. Now you were saying something about Megatron wanting to see you too. What was that about?"

"A stealth mission. Megatron wants Bumblebee, Wasp, and I to strike out across the interlock ring systems of Bolamo to get close enough to disable the lead ship orbiting there before they send in an attack."

"How are the minis taking it? Swinging with the big bots?"

Rolling his optics behind his visor Prowl relaxes somewhat, despite the dread creeping up, "Bumblebee is very confident in his abilities. When I told him of the mission he said and I quote, 'If Blurr can do it so can I'."

"I don't think anyone can do it like Blurr can." Jazz chuckles.

"No. It's his luck he can use the boosters in space without anyone hearing him coming. Wasp is hesitant, but it has lead to him looking over the ring systems movements with me to plot a path. Busy work has calmed him."

"That's good. And sounds wild," Jazz says as he flashes a small smile his way, "With you as their prowler-in-chief they've got nothin' to worry about."

His dermas lift at the nickname before frowning at the other half of his mission, "Jazz ... Megatron wants - has demanded - that we bring back the Qidrieds' hyperspace coil."

And suddenly a string of curses that would make Ratchet proud fill his room, "That's —!"

"I know Jazz. I plan on locating the power source and removing it before handing over the rest if it to the Decepticons. Once the chance presents itself to pass the component off to our forces I will."

Megatron had chosen them because smaller mechas tend to have more subspace and secret holds than larger mechas, but Prowl was going to use that to his advantage to hide the component. If not, he would damage it and only bring back some of the basic parts. 

"Smart thinking, but Prowl," And Jazz stares at him, dermas turned into a serious frown, something he hadn't seen on the other ninja, "Be safe about this. Please. This ceasefire we got going isn't completely jivin' with Decepticons and if they ask for it give it to them. The risk ain’t worth it."

"I know," Prowl agrees, "Optimus' life isn't worth it."

"Neither is yours." Jazz pleads.

Prowl sits back and turns his optics away from the glowing visor locked on his. He doesn't know what to say to that expression of emotion - so he doesn't address it. Even as the concern warms his core.

"How are you - All of you." Prowl quickly corrects himself, but still catches a glancing smirk from Jazz.

"Fine. But OP is in the medbay," Panic overtakes any of the warmth he felt. But before he can ask why Jazz is holds up a servo, "Don't worry 'bout a thing Prowler. It's nothin' too bad. Blurr says that it's from a sensory surcharge from being jacked into the war table system and the Con's databanks."

"Probably older than what he's used to," Prowl says, calmed by the fact that he wasn't hurt in battle, "And you're sure he's okay?"

"Yeah. Already up and off to see Strika 'bout more battle plans. Mech doesn't know when to rest." Jazz chuckles with a light shake of his helm.

"He really doesn't. You might need to have Bulkhead sit on him to get that to happen."

Laughing, Jazz nods, "I think you might be right. Don't worry, I won't let him burnout."

"Thank you Jazz."

"Ain't nothin'."

Then Jazz's dermas twist into a roguish grin that Prowl would only associated with scoundrel characters from the movies Sari showed them during team movie nights. It was a grin that tingled across Prowl's armor even though the owner wasn't here.

"So I've been caught up. You've been caught up. I think it's only proper protocol that we get caught up with each other."

"Is that so?" Prowl questions, playing along, "Well then, how's the sand treating you?"

Throwing his head back dramatically, like he was rolling his optics, Jazz sighs like a petulant little sparkling all the while grinning unabashedly. Prowl doesn't know what part of his actions does it, but he's already smiling and trying to stifle a laugh. Jazz's good mood, no matter how many light-years away, was just as infectious as if he was here. 

  


"Why?"

Raising her helm slowly from the ship's controls Strika holds in a much needed sigh and turns to see the disgruntle Token glaring at her as if she had done something wrong. Glancing at his forearms she can see Knockout's servo-work with both med-patches neatly and perfectly aligned over his data ports and wrapped immaculately. The Token though still looked as fearsome as a drenched turbofox, and it wasn't helped that even in the crew pit she still towered over the Autobot. She had nothing to say to him so she merely raises a questioning optic ridge, but that seems to set him off.

"I’m not happy about this situation either, but I’m not trying to do anything," He says, his control on his tone slipping, "I’m trying to give you support, but you think I'm going to ruin this." 

"You expect me to believe an Autobot's tales?"

"Yes!" He shouts, servos clenching and field flaring.

The three soldiers in the crew pit with her step away and quickly blend into the darkness of the ship, likely to slip off the bridge before she took care of the Autobot.

"Doubtful."

"I think I proved I'm capable. I know you don't like me —"

"I don't," Strika cuts in, already bored with this, "And your actions were reprehensible. You are supposed to provide suggestions or run algorithms. Not act on them without review. I have final say." She reminds the unruly Token.

He has the decency to look apologetic, but it won't stop her criticizing him. There was only so much she could do to the Autobot with him under her Emperor's possession. 

"We Decepticons may look like we don't have a power structure, but I assure you there is one. In it, you are no higher than a drone and should not have done anything."

"I enacted the plan because you were doing the opposite of what you just said," The Token defends himself, "You won't take suggestions from me. You won't even let me speak around you. What else was I supposed to do to show you I want this alliance to work. You don’t need to be paranoid about anything else happening!"

And the stewing fury that was seated in her core reignites into it usually deep-sated wrath. Slowly hulling herself out of the crew pit she looms over the now silent Autobot who now cowered under her palpable field of hated and disgust towards him and his faction.

"Yes... I wouldn't want to be label as a maniac by my city-state for acting on the basic right of speaking my concern," Her sarcasm dipping with loathing, "That somehow speaking about such intellectual topics were beyond my comprehension and I should cease and put an end to my humiliation." She sharply recites the rebukes that were thrown her way all those millennia ago.

The Autobot’s optics widen as his fins sink back across his helm, "Oh... Oh. I-I’m sorry," He says fearfully quiet, taking a step back, "I didn’t mean to say —"

"That I'm paranoid," Strika accuses and watches as the battlemask snaps over his mouth, "Tell me Autobot, what shouldn’t I be paranoid about?"

Following each of his two steps with her one he watches her movements with fear and regret, an emotion she could say she didn't see often on Autobot filth. But it doesn't cool any of her anger. It fuels it.

"Tell me how, when I and many of my fellow construction workers were protesting peacefully and ve were reported and demonized as terrorists. That I vas truly against _their_ ideals. Ideals of order, safety, and purpose that any good Cybertronian should uphold instead of holding the Council accountable for both their actions and inactions. They made it clear that ve weren’t 'good Cybertronians'. That I didn’t deserve that safety and that my purpose vas to bend a kneestruct to any weak brightly colored mecha that hides behind _that_ insignia!"

Poking at that very insignia the Token goes down hard, falling against her commander's chair with an echoing racket. He scrambles to stand, but she grabs his forearm, the same one she had ripped from the sims board. The Autobot goes deathly still, gaze flickering between his arm and her. Scaring him more, Strika gently swipes her thumb over the bandage and watches as the frantic look becomes pleading, his field undulating with terror.

"Tell me _Autobot_? Tell me what vas I to do?!" She barks only for the Autobot to look down at her harsh query, "Vas I to continue living in fear, unrepresented? Did I not deserve a right to a life I chose and vas not built for?"

Raising his helm the Token removes his battlemask and though his faceplates are marred by fear he speaks.

"I'm sorry that happened. I am," Pausing, he vents in atmosphere before continuing softly, "But I was ordered to develop strategies and even if I wasn't I would have still done this. You can’t get angry when I do exactly what I was asked. That I'm following the position I put myself in. It doesn’t solve or change anything."

_Caught and he's still trying to holding his ground._

To others this might be seen as brave or foolish. Strika could see something minusculely admirable in his actions, but she truly didn't want to deal with more than she had to. A new compromise could be met if he followed her rules and didn't interfere. Dropping his arm the Token quickly holds it up to inspect for any damage. Scoffing at him, he drops his arm and Strika walks pass so she wouldn't have to see his miserable face.

"Ve vill try this again. This time you vill run everything by me, not tell me it's progress. Ve are done here."

"We’re not."

Spinning around she finds the Autobot using the arm of the commander's chair to hold himself up, his arms and servos trembling. Holding his helm up high she meets his defiant stare with her own displeased one.

"We’re not done."

"You’re villing to prove it?" 

"I have no other choice." His voice gaining strength as was his stance.

With a hum Strika sees someone malleable, but at the same time the furthest thing from it.

"Ve'll see. Dismiss."

"Yes General Strika." He says respectfully and with a bow the Token walks pass leaving Strika to wonder what could be accomplished by listening to this peculiar Autobot.

* * *

It felt like it was only a few solar cycles since she begrudgingly gave the Token a chance to prove himself. But after an orbital cycle of listening to him she could not say his suggestions were awful.

But Strika had no obligation to tell anyone what she truly thought.

She did act on little more than half of his plans, some of which were viable from her own experiences. But the rest were unorthodox. No matter how she ran them through her processor or through predictive measures they came out with a nearly 80 to 90 percent rate of success. With those facts Strika followed them and placed the Token in charge of movements of the battle. Thus this far he had proved himself a capable strategist despite her first thoughts. 

He also proved himself in another way, by being a fairly partial voice during the needed planning meetings for their expanding forces to take back the three other colonized planets.

Talking with Autobots was not her strong suit, especially with ones from the War that apparently held innate grudges for loss appendages. In her town of Cadmius, removing a limb in a bonding battle would be seen as a high gesture of strength and willingness to protect if someone was to ever attack your mate. Aries Prime would be so lucky for someone of Kalis' great ancestry to look at him even once. He should be grateful she only took an arm and not his spark.

The moment Strika could leave she did as the lead Autobot Major once again made apologetic platitudes to her and the Prime as she runs after her own Prime to complain about his behavior again. She couldn't be bothered and quicken her pace much to her company's annoyance.

_Ugh! I did not think a grown mech could sound anymore whiny. I need Lugnut. Maybe have him give me one of those amazing massages. How he does that I'll never know... And if I'm more relaxed I could treat him. It's been awhile since we last —_

"The meeting?"

Blinking at the intrusive voice she turns to her left to see Cyclonus had joined her in walking through the Autobots' domain. Thinking about the latest meeting has her bristling and causes the Token to cringe at her field snapping.

"It —"

"I hate him."

"General Strika," The Prime almost sighs at her declaration, "You can’t hate everyone that —"

"I can and I will. I despise you."

"That understandable."

"It is," Strika agrees, "Why?"

Looking up at her the Prime's brow creases in confusion, "What?"

"Why is it understandable?" Strika elaborates. She liked knowing her enemies weaknesses, no matter what type.

"You don't trust me. No one trusts me, so its easier not to like me." He says with such a sure but self-deprecating grin.

That give her momentary pause as she rolled that thought around her processor.

_No one trusted him? Not even the Autobots?_

Sharing a glance with Cyclonus she saw disbelief on his faceplates instead of his usual bored or stoic. Anyone could see that the Autobot Major here held him in higher regards than her own Prime and some of her lower ranking warriors had warmed up to the Token in a sense.

Strika wouldn't trust an Autobot with her life, but the Token had done a miraculous job keeping not only his numbers down but Decepticons as well. Though that didn't ignore the fact that she could see the change the Token was having on her lord. Strika had seen how he was slowly calming the rightful rage in her lord to a simmer, a dangerous factor with their sides still unease and Cybertron not yet conquered. But she also knew the Autobot was too honest to plan something like that. He was notably loyal to the cause of defeating the Qidrieds and was doing an admirable job of not allowing factions from interfering with his judgement. This honorable attitude included the Token being extremely protective of his friends, but obviously not for his own character.

Autobots were such fragile things. One blow to their egos and they were held together by adhesives and rubber. But something else must have happened because she hadn't seen a mecha casually admit that he was unliked when it was quite the contrary. She did not want to get involved with whatever sob story this Autobot could have, one that shouldn’t have had one because of his disgustingly charmed life under the rule of the Council. But Strika couldn't have second guessing on her team or have anyone assuming they were unneeded. It led to unsightly incidents on the battlefield.

_And when I didn’t think the Autobots could annoy me more. Look at me, fixing things they broke._

"Tell me what you know about Kalis. Presently."

Raising his helm again he looks stunned by her question.

"I asked you a question. I trust you can answer something so simple." Strika says again in a low voice.

There's a brief moment of abject confusion before understanding flashes through his optics. But as quickly as it was there it disappears and goes back to perplexed. But the Prime answers her.

"Kalis currently has a population of 1,080,000, having been accredited to boost the inhabitants approximately 10,000 stellar cycles ago. They are still dedicated to pushing the boundary of architecture and art. The have developed ...."

The rest of the walk back to her small shuttle was full of solace for her hearing of home, it was also an emotional boost for the Token. And her Emperor was concern she wouldn't be able to handle him.

* * *

"It will interact with the phlogiston in the degrading filament and go off in multiple intervals," Tripline explains with extreme elation, "One after another until a crescendo of destruction!"

And imitating the explosion - with sound effects - one of his servos goes flying off as a part of his forearm plating disengages and swings up smacking him in the faceplates. His servo hits a nearby passing Decepticon in the back of the helm and she thinks its her fellow warrior next to her and throws a punch accordingly. Slowly shuttering her optics Strika pinches at the space between her optics, an act she had picked up from the Autobots. 

"Riveting explanation... As always, Tripline." Strika sighs at the spindly explosive expert.

Four of the five Autobots present watch the chain reaction with varying degrees of horror while Optimus Prime drops his helm into his servos with a weary groan. After three orbital cycles she assumed they would get used to the random bouts of fighting, especially the Autobots' her lord had been stuck with. It was nothing new and did wonders for alleviating tension and aggravation within their ranks, within reason. As a seventh Decepticon joins the fray she waves a servo at Lugnut to break up the growing fight.

"At once my magnificent goddess!"

Fixing her gaze back on Tripline he smiles slyly as he holds the stump to his injured optic, "So I believe it will be a great plan General Strika."

"It's not a horrible idea, but you forget Tripline, you brought extra supplies, not reinforcements."

Lord Megatron's forces were still three megacycles out and the Qidrieds' forces would be engaging her forces at the end of their reconquered territory in one. Tripline and a small group of other Decepticons had come with supplies from Vespa, which had it's blockade decimated two solar cycles ago. The reason Lord Megatron wasn't here now was because he had stayed briefly to make sure the system was secured, but also because he would be able to utilized a rebuilt Space Bridge.

Knowing this Strika wasn't above using scare tactics to quicken the final standoff. She directed for the two resupply ships to fly over the Qidrieds' stronghold. Just as she planned the Qidrieds had responded with bolstering their numbers for this battle, but left their rear flank unprotected though not unsecured. Their cruisers still patrolled the stratosphere and the base was covered by a forcefield, which they hadn't been able to get close enough to attack. Another problem arose when neither her or Optimus Prime anticipated that the Qidrieds could collect their numbers so swiftly. This gave them less time to craft another plan.

"Ve don't have the numbers to hold up to their attacks," Strika admits, "Yes, ve have the long-range attacks, but until how long before they run out if they are our main offense."

"Well we just need to get there right?"

Turning to unsure voice she sees the large green Autobot shirking under her gaze.

"That would be the idea... Care to add something?"

Optimus Prime, ever the kind minder, steps over and places a comforting servo on the small giant's arm, "It's okay Bulkhead. What were you trying to get at?"

"I've been working on fixing a Space Bridge in case everything didn't go too well and we needed to get out really quick," He explains, "It's not big because all the materials we find are being used for other repairs. And it's only one way, but it's stable enough for bots to go through if we give it a cycle or two to cool down."

The Qidrieds had done the smart thing by destroying all the Space Bridges they could in the system, baring the main nexus on Salvvatan V. The Autobots had continued to fiercely protect the nexus without help allowing Strika to focus on fighting and only directing some resupplies towards the competent Autobots. 

"That could work," Optimus Prime says thoughtfully, "We just have to choose somewhere that is hidden and close to the base."

"The-Boreal-Samarium-Forest-is-twenty-kilometers-from-the-Qidrieds'-base-of-operations-and-has-a-magnetic-distortion-that-hides-our-signature-remarkably-well."

"We could have some of the heavier armored Autobots join a Decepticons unit —" 

"There is still the matter of the forcefield," Strika cuts off Axiom Prime of Salvvatan VIII, "If that obstruction is not removed than all your plans vill amount to a mere distraction."

"That's true," Optimus Prime agrees, "Bulkhead? Do you think you could find away to transwarp inside the forcefield?"

"They're are a lot of pieces left over from two plasma dynamic thrusters I picked up during savaging duty," He says as he scratches at his helm, "I think I could make modifications for a smaller jump and transwarp us there. Well in there, but it'll be a single jump too."

"Then we just have to sneak in, find the generator, and blow it sky-high." The cyber-ninja concludes.

"That's all we need and the base will be woefully under-protected because of General Strika's froward attack," Axiom Prime speaks up, excited once more, "I can lead the attack from the forest and have our combined unit split off and attack around the destroyed generator. We'll need to plan the timing though so they're caught off guard."

"How long vill the smaller transwarper take to design?" 

"Ugh... half a megacycle at least."

It was a risk, but one that had higher dividends then what they had first conceived. If her forward forces could hold the Qidrieds attention for at least a megacycle they could get a sizable force through. All they need now was a stealth team to detonate the bomb.

"Very vell," Strika agrees, already mentally choosing her soldiers for the northern approach, "Now ve must organize an infiltration team to get Tripline and Bulkhead in safely."

"General Strika," And turning to Optimus Prime she sees he and his other Autobots with determined expressions, "My team and I will go. But I think it would be best if we had two of your Decepticons come along."

"Who do you have in mind?" Raising an optic ridge at the request. 

Optimus Prime had requested Cyclonus and Oilslick. Cyclonus for extra cover fire when evacuating the enemy's base and Oilslick who carried a variety of acids. For this mission speed was crucial and there was no time to crack security systems as Strika was giving them only a quarter of a megacycle after the last soldiers made it through the small Space Bridge. If they couldn't they were on their own.

Counterattack set and battalions briefed the Qidrieds march over the horizon and Strika waste not time in ordering long range cannons to fire. With her forces engaging the enemy Axiom and Optimus Prime's forces make it to the edge of the Samarium Forest within their timeframe and then it's all on the team of seven.

As the timer counts closer to zero Strika has a brief moment of anger and distress. The plan was going off without a hitch, but it seems —

_ ** BOOM! ** _

The sudden shockwave is follows by a towering and booming explosion silencing the battlefield. Checking her chronometer Strika sees it's almost to the nanoklik before hitting zero. And magnifying her vision she can see the massive dome disintegrate before her optics. In a roar of outrage a section of the Qidrieds break off to race back to defend their base. But Strika's army is not far behind. Letting them charge pass her Strika uses the short safety of her location to make contact with the infiltration team.

|| Tripline status report and an optical patch! ||

Then she's viewing the inside of the main building with Oilslick putting his Cosmic Rust concoction to use with rusting the walls between them and the way out. Crumbling before them they rush through two more walls before reaching the outside and immediately Optimus Prime is the first out deflecting laser fire and shielding his team before Cyclonus and Tripline take flight.

As discuss they fire at the incoming guards, but as they break off to circle back Strika can see the Prime through Tripline's optics using a nearby barrel as a long range weapon with the aid of his grapplers taking out five of the aliens. It reminds her of a tenacious yellow Prime she clashed with a great deal during the War that was famed for a very similar move. The two other Autobots take out two more Qidrieds, the blue one kneeing one in the chin and the other visored one spinning and kicking them in the face.

A path clear for now, Oilslick and the Autobots zigzag through the renewed firefight only for Axiom Prime's attack from the rear of the complex to take precedence for the Qidrieds and they leave them to engage the other battlefront. It leaves the team safe as the large technician smashes through a nearby support wall and they all file out, Cyclonus and Tripline escorting the five back to her side of the battlefield. Closing the window Strika joins the fight with her soldiers and pushes back the Qidriedian threat.

The Qidrieds valiantly try to fight a battle on two fronts, but are overwhelm after a megacycle and soon begin a retreat response with heavy gunnery holding their combined forces back as the enemy leaves the planet and jumps to some point in hyperspace. 

Strika is impressed with the plan's success and the skills of those involved, especially Optimus Prime's actions. But then again Lord Megatron would not associate with someone less than ambitious and persistent as this Optimus Prime was proving to her. That doesn't mean she's isn't still annoyed with him for his general sense of virtuous.

"General," Oilslick calls out. Transforming with a dramatic flare he walks towards her with an oily grin, "I believe you'll find my skills were advantageous in —" 

"Was that Cosmic Rust?" Optimus Prime demands as he transforms, field crackling and his visor refracting the light harshly.

_This is completely opposite of his usual persona... Interesting._

"Why yes it was," Oilslick turns with a bow, "But I've given it a little extra kick for quicker potency. Works marvelously doesn't?"

No one answers the question; the technician is confused, the cyber-ninja and the speedster are fuming, but Optimus Prime is livid. As always Oilslick believes everything is about his accomplishments and fails to notice the dangers he's constantly putting himself in because of his experiments.

"Do you use that mess on other bots?" The ninja asks quietly.

"If I can. Haven't been able to until recently."

"Did-you-use-it-on-an-Autobot-Commander, a-one-Rodimus-Prime, leader-of-Team-Athenia, Station-head-of-Space-Bridge-687-030?"

"The Space Bridge sounds familiar. The name less so." Sounding proud he couldn't remember another possible victim.

The punch comes too quick for Strika to realize it for what it was. The force of it sends Oilslick sliding across the rocky terrain and before he stops moving Optimus Prime is on him with two more punches to Oilslick's chassis and his dome, cracking it. The Prime raises his fist again before the other Autobots can reach him, but hesitate at the follow through and lowers his arm. Standing, his visor glints a fiery blue, hiding his optics, but the intensity of the glare is palpable.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Oilslick coughs as he struggles to stand.

"That bot you used it on. The one you don't remember. He is my Amica," Optimus Prime growls dangerously, "You're lucky he survived."

Transforming he drives off to the _Lament_, almost clipping the chemist, and the other Autobots following suit. Shaking her helm at the scene Strika can't help chuckling. The rage was so raw and the speed at which he moved. She liked his atti — Slamming that thought down Strika stops laughing and regains her stoic presence, but the thought comes back. She may not trust him and will mostly tolerate the Token, but he had earned an inkling of her respect some how, unfortunately. She didn't want to, but the Token had unknowingly prided it from her.

Such an infuriating Prime.

Thankfully, her processor is taken away from those thoughts as the _Talon_ descends through the atmosphere leading it's armada and taking out the few small Qidrieds ships left. As the army cheers at the sight of Decepticon ships Strika smirks and opens the channel for incoming messages and does not have to wait long.

"It seems you’ve had another success under your stabilizers."

"Yes my lord. Despise certain Autobots being difficult." Silently cursing Aries Prime and Strata Prime of Salvvatan VI for their shortsightedness and general unpleasantness.

A deep chuckle rings in her audials at her complaints, "Speaking about Autobots, how is my Token?"

"Distressingly well." And Strika tries to ignores the fact he asked about the Autobot Prime before asking for a status report.

"It is a emotion you will become acquainted with soon enough. Now the status of Salvvatan VIII as well as the whole system."

With a huff Strika gives her report, meanwhile her processor turns over the thought about the Autobot Prime being a great enemy to the Decepticons and a danger to Megatron in general. But more frustrating was the fact that Optimus Prime could be an acceptable ally as well.

  


"You've been ignoring my calls." Ultra Magnus begins tersely as a form of greeting.

Reclining in his chair Megatron smirks as he takes in the dour expression thrown his way.

This was the hundredth or so time the Autobot Leader had tried to get in contact with him in the past orbital cycles. Usually it was easy enough to ignore it or in other cases cite a battle or meeting and forget about it. But after these consecutive victories Megatron was in high spirits and feeling a tad generous.

His last battle of his campaign at Vespa had him defeating the Thyous in a stunning victory – a truly humiliating defeat for them – and chasing them to the system’s edge. Not only were the Qidrieds bested in multiple space battles, but the Autobot ninja and the minibots brought back a full hyperspace engine for Brainstorm to reconstruct a better version of. Yes, he knew the ninja had the power component, but with Shockwave already breaking into the Autobots' newly reconstructed Intelligence Grid with the underlining backdoor he added to the system he would have the Autobots' best telling him the most ingenious way to power his new addition if Brainstorm didn’t first.

That is why Megatron was sure he would find amusement instead of apathy for once when having another circular argument with Ultra Magnus.

"Well I am a very busy mech. Fighting and winning your war after all." 

"Autobots have made contributions —"

"Only once allowed when the Qidriedian fleets are otherwise engaged," Megatron reminds him with a sharp grin, "Is there a reason for this call?"

"You know very well what this call is about."

"Enlighten me."

The frown takes on a more disgruntle manner as Ultra Magnus says quietly, "The Offering of Optimus Prime."

Smiling at the chastised response triumph sparks through his system. Leaning forward Megatron watches as Ultra Magnus shifts his optics away in shame at his mistake.

"Ah yes, that wonderful mishap. A political blunder if I ever saw one. Tell me, did it not occur to you that something was amiss at all?" He mocks the Magnus, a patronizing grin fixed on his dermas.

"Megatron," Ultra Magnus says tiredly, "It was merely a coincidence. I had no need to worry as I had assumed I was simply giving Optimus more freedoms, not servitude. I didn't know at the time and I —"

"But you approved this regardless."

"Yes, but I know the extent of it now and if I did I wouldn't have —"

"It sounds to me that you didn't learn anything," Megatron cuts him off again. And it sparks true joy at being able to silence the one who had shunned him millennia ago, "If you know about the Offering ceremony now than you know it's not breakable except by me as the Prime agreed."

"I cannot accept that answer." He tells him firmly.

_As if I care._

"And yet you’ll have to," Megatron tells him in a bored tone, reclining back, "Ultra Magnus, while a pragmatic leader you lack the forethought of foresight. You plan for the current, never the future. And you never seem to want to look back at what caused the issues, only to eradicate them. If you took time understanding the complexities of everything you do you may not end up in the morally grey situations you often find yourself."

"I do not need to take advice in leadership from a mech that started a war instead of working towards peaceful considerations." 

"Perhaps not, but at least I do everything with a goal in mind and am fluid with change instead of bulldozing it."

Ultra Magnus' expression becomes perturb, and dare he say flustered, at his barbed truth. Megatron had been correct, answering this call was quite enjoyable. For him.

"And discussing your pragmatic approach. The Little Prime," And Megatron's grin turns a bit more menacing at the concern that flashes through the Magnus' optics, "He came prepared. Knowledgeable about something only Alpha Trion would know. I take it he spent many megacycles there considering the extra history and City-State Studies courses he took. He couldn't afford not to. And of course his citations on some of his work simply state the ancient mech's designation."

"I see your spy has been thorough," Ultra Magnus says through gritted dentea.

"One of us had to be," Megatron says airily before his happy mood sours somewhat, "You shouldn’t have thought you were safe, that I or my Decepticons weren't still a threat. Which can be plainly seen as I am not the one giving away Planetary Commander, especially the same one to orchestrate this functioning plan. The same one that had been an extreme deterrent before this new encroachment." Megatron reminds the Magnus then waits for his supposed reputation and the mech's imagination to run rampant.

Its doesn't take long for Magnus to think the worse and his faceplates morphs into the most fearful Megatron had ever seen.

"What... What have you done?! Megatron, if you hurt him I will —"

"What?"

Ultra Magnus freezes, intake gaping at the warlord's neutral response. He could truly do nothing and this verbal back and forth was over before it truly began, but now Megatron was done with it.

"You don't have any say in what happens anymore. You can't afford to try and force me to return him to the Autobot forces or you'll be right back where you started."

Magnus' intake close with an audible click as he looks away, jaw working as he tries to settle on a reply. Focusing back on him and with a grim and utterly defeated expression Ultra Magnus whispers,

"Megatron... I beg you."

A delicious turnabout and one he was not expecting. Smirking at the desperate plead Megatron rumbles lowly, "Then beg. And I might think about it."

But before the Magnus could reply he turns off the comm. hub and redirects all calls back to whomever was making sure he never got them in the first place. No sooner had he done that does Megatron receive a ping to enter his office and knowing who it was Megatron allows entrance graciously.

"Welcome back Little Prime. Did you enjoy your campaign?" He asks as Optimus walks in with a small stack of datapads.

Pausing before taking a seat in the warfame-sized chair, Optimus gazes down at one of the datapads thoughtfully, "It was optic opening. But not enjoyable."

"Yes, a Decepticon trait I believe. Well I have on good authority that you did an excellent job."

"I spent three orbital cycles with General Strika and that is not what she would have said." Optimus says with a doubtful upturn of his dermas.

"She said you were adequate."

"What is it with Decepticons and the word 'adequate'?" Optimus questions as he sets up his work area.

"It easily defines anything that is up to par with us," Megatron answers before tacking on, "Or as tall as us."

"Funny." Giving him a pinched look, before going back to pulling up the a new platform for the next stage of the treaty.

" 'He has wholly cooperative and coordinated useful plans. His overall adequacy in the field is fair.' " Megatron cites and with the perplexed look from Optimus he goes on to reveal who made the comment, "That is what Strika relayed to me when I asked."

Optimus' optics widen to a humorous sizes as he tries to answer, "... She really said that? Are you sure she-she made it known that she didn’t like me," And looking down he lightly grazing his right forearm where his data cables lay. As if he was soothing them.

"You’ve seemed to have endeared yourself to her."

"She didn’t seem too thrilled about that."

"She rarely is and has a certain way of expressing her own discontent with others that come within the peripheral range of her ability." Megatron tells him, remembering when he was younger and became too hubristic about beating Strika on a technicality. The next practice match left him with more than a few dents and internal leaking for being so presumptuous.

"Don’t have to tell me twice." Optimus agrees readily.

After that they both sink into the siren call of work and discuss the finer points of trading and revisions for recognition of Decepticon Empire as viable sovereign state on Cybertron til both were satisfactory. Optimus types up the finished notes and leaves Megatron with nothing pressing to do but watch and brings the mysticism surrounding Optimus' origins back into clarity.

"Tell me something interesting about yourself."

Pausing briefly, Optimus goes back to typing, "You can see I have work to do." He deflects.

"Messaging is a simple action," Megatron scoffs, "Besides we both know you can multi-task. One does not simply explain how to fix a ruptured fuel lines to a ion reactor and help direct my flagship through a critical point in a battlespace unless they have mastered it."

The battle above Praum's moons had been intense and if not for his timely involvement they would have lost two cruisers before making planetfall, despite Optimus' multiple warnings to the contrary of him joining the fight. The mention of it not only grabs the Autobot's attention, but has Optimus staring at him with worry optics as well, and Megatron knows why.

"I believe the words 'infuriating', 'egoistic', and 'irresponsible' were thrown around in my absence." Megatron says airily as he leans his elbow joints onto the desk, smirking as Optimus quickly turns away embarrassed.

"I didn’t know you'd ... I mean I wouldn't know what to say," Looking back his way Optimus finishes whatever he was typing and crosses his arms, "Plus, with Shockwave I'm sure you know more than you let on. I think I should get to ask you something since you know so much about me."

"Yes he is quite good at his job, but I promise you I don't. You are still very much an enigma Little Prime." Megatron assures him, his voice a low purr that has Optimus turning away again, his fins flicking back and forth.

"Why?"

"I enjoy unraveling a mystery and the sense of accomplish that come with it. I'm sure it's something you experience while at the Archives," Megatron mentions as the Little Prime's dermas twitch as he tries not to smile with the Hall of Records being brought up. Not being turned down Megatron continues, "If that is the case, I suppose I can offer up some personal information to jump start this conversation."

Megatron has to push down the grin that threatens to break through at feeling the jump of excitement and interest in Optimus' field from across the divide as the Autobot attempts to retain his composure.

"I guess I'd be more willing." Trying to sound nonchalantly about it.

Thinking of what to reveal Megatron is surprise when one of the first choices that pops up is extremely personal, "... I was the son of a Tarnian gladiator and a Kaonian miner."

He watches as Optimus seems to brighten at receiving new knowledge before recognizing what has been said. The Autobot looks down ashamed only to then glance up with a look of genuine sympathy and understanding when realizing the past tense of his statement, "And later, you became a Kaonian gladiator."

"It was a prudent occupation at the time."

"I can tell you I was sparked into an archivist compatible unit."

Smirking at him, the Little Prime rolls his optics, "I know. Which begs the question about your skills. Were you a tactician's protege at the Academy? Or perhaps self-taught?"

"You don't think it's an upgrade?" Optimus asks, a playfully gleam in his optics.

"I hadn't," Raising an optic ridge at the taunt, Megatron tries to figure out how his spy had missed a serious surgery like that, "You didn't seem the one for upgrades." 

"I'm not. And it's isn't," Optimus says with a shrug before adopting a confident smirk that looked both dangerous and dashing on him, "It's just that no one ever thought to use an archivist's processor like a battle computer."

And no one would. Struck mute at this reveal Megatron struggles to come to terms with what Optimus had done.

An archivist's processor was perfectly calibrated to process and store knowledge, such as decoding frankly archaic cyberglyphics through complex algorithms or debugging corrupted files. It was one of the few processors beside miners, construction, and tacticians that could build structures in 3D. Usually for reconstruction of layered files or tablets, sometimes used for artworks from the remnants of the ancient lower cities, but he didn't know the scope of their grid plane. It was also used to organize all forms of information at an alarming pace and if - an enormous if - done properly...

"...They could generator and calculate... Order similar statistics like a superframe battle computer. Play out simulations and collect data on casualties simultaneously. The storage alone..."

"Yeah. But it’s only possible if you put in the right parameters," He says with another, though smaller, shrug and a modest smile, "And you can't forget to stay on top of all the updates and defrags. It's a lot of work, but I'm glad it's useful."

Dumbfounded by this Megatron can only shakes his helm at how unbelievable humble Optimus was being and how truly idiotic the Autobots were in letting go of such a brilliant mind.

"Clever. Very clever." He tells him sincerely.

Optimus' optics widen as his dermas press into a thin line and quickly looks away. But it does nothing to hide the light blush on Optimus' faceplates as he shrugs again, "Well I had plans to use it for it's actual use, but ... Well... Plans change." He tells him, clearly dejected.

"As they often do," Megatron agrees, "But I believe it’s the matter of continuing in the face of change that makes the mecha stronger. One never knows what they can be if they stay static."

But in voicing his opinion Optimus' optics darken and his fins tilt back ever so slightly. Whatever the tolerant mood was before it had exited.

"But sometimes too much change can be disastrous." The light tone does not diminished the heat growing in his optics.

"And what's to say of the constant unfair pressure that was bound to break. It was denying the restless and held Cybertron back from a new age. What happened was merely the start of long overdue progress. In time —"

"In time those ideals can and have changed. And not always for the better." 

Narrowing his optics Megatron does conceited to that point, but likely not in the way the Autobot would hope, "As everything does. But that does not take away the need to remove unwarranted barriers. Barriers that were already too fragile to handle something that was false and became more broken over time. Had that occurred to you? That the break between Autobots and Decepticons was not only our doing."

His dermas thin into a frown before he opens his intake to defend his convictions.

"Respect goes both ways Little Prime," Megatron cuts in smoothly before Optimus could speak, "When no one holds it for either there is nothing holding them back from wanting to destroy the other. We asked to be heard, but no one wanted to listen peacefully." He growls lowly, remembering those dismissive stares.

"But you know what happen is wrong," The Autobot says faintly, his expression pensive, "I still think there could have been another way." 

"As do I and I don't deny my actions, but it was the only course given to us as they seemed to think us incapable of anything else. It could have been avoided if the stubborn Functionists weren't in charge infidelity."

"You made sure that wouldn't happen again." Optimus say lowly as the dark look returns.

Megatron had ordered Scrash to be brutal in his attack on Mertoplex and to destroy as many residences that they had throughout Iacon in hopes of wiping them out. They also made sure to attack anyone that filled their accounts with credits and support for their oppressive regime. He was pleasantly surprised when he heard from Shockwave that apparently the message they had sent had been heard as some changes had been enacted to provide more representation and to keep those with wealth and staunch traditional ideas from holding some form of power over committees and members. If the higher caste had to all but be wiped out to achieve it, it was worth it. Because of their idle game with politics generations of Cybertronains were destroyed. They did not deserve to be given comfortable deaths.

"You agree with the goal, but not the method." He concludes with a bitter grin.

"I never would," The Prime whispers defiantly, "But I hope we have and can learned from that now. That the same story will always have more than one narrative," And with a wistful and far away smile says to himself, "And maybe it can have a peaceful resolution."

Witnessing that tiny smile Megatron knew Optimus' statement refereed to not only the War, but something else entirely. Something personal that he had been lucky enough to uncover, even without knowing it's relevance.

"It's not impossible."

Optimus focuses on him, surprised, before a lopsided smile shows itself. But its scared away when the transfer alarm sounds off softly startling him. Without a peep he starts to quickly and silently collect his items and makes a hastily exit to the doors before stopping and turning around, looking indecisive. 

"...Thank you for the talk... It was enlightening," He settles on and Megatron grace his attempt at niceties with a simple smirk, "I’ll see you tomorrow at the war council. Early."

"If I wish to persevere my hearing I must," Megatron grimaces, even more so when Optimus fails to hide his grin at his theoretical pain, "But if I do I expect you to be early as well. I have something for you."

"What?"

"You’ll know soon enough."

"That's what has me worried." Optimus rolls his optics.

"Not afraid?" Megatron questions jokingly.

The Little Prime's intake opens to fire back, but then closes, looking faintly distressed before schooling his features, "No... Not really." He answers softly.

_... He is much too honest for his own good._

"Should I be insulted that I don't strike fear into your spark anymore." Megatron draws dryly.

Optimus smirks a little at that before saying, "Interpret it as you must."

Megatron's dermas twitch into a quick grin at his own quip being thrown back at him. 

Straightening his posture and flattening his expression back into something professional Optimus asks, "Tomorrow?"

Dipping his head in agreement Megatron replies, "Tomorrow."

With his departure Megatron is left to wait til tomorrow for Optimus' reaction to his 'gift' and is oddly troubled about the hidden meaning it will hold for the mysterious Autobot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again? that the chapter was kinda long, but I hope it was a good chapter. (^◡^)
> 
> HOT TAKES  
\- If you couldn't tell hacking, or data dives, are like actual diving and the bot doing them need to come out of it step by step or it’s kinda bad.  
\- Blurr is... trying to deal with Shockwave. And Shockwave is being the creepy Tarnian that he is, thus making everyone else’s life difficult.  
\- Strika is _THE_ dark horse of TFA and I am so excited to include her more! I'm playing with her accent and I'm not sure if I'll keep it yet. Besides that hiccup I hope I've done her justice (=^o^=)  
\- Prowl and Jazz content! Only a little bit, but it’s so good. Perfect for my original OTP (ღ⺣◡⺣ღ)  
\- The Decepticons are starting to get to Optimus and he's getting irritated, all is according to plan (人¬‿¬)  
\- Megatron is impressed and is like 'Oh no! He's smart!' That silly sapiosexual.


	12. (“Alliances”);

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi readers!  
Another long chapter here, but also a heads-up. So I added three new tags that should have been here, but were overlooked. I forgot to add the Anxiety tag somehow even though it’s already happened a few times, but I think I just assumed I had added it. But now it’s there and sorry about that.  
And when I was going over my outlines for this I realized - belatedly - that war includes Injury and Gore. How I forgot about that when I started the story off with just that and I have been reading bloody battle strategies on the side for this astounds me.  
So like any good writer I figured I should add the tags for those occasions, so I have. Especially because of what happens in this chapter.
> 
> This lovely war chapter is located on Regulon IV and the only comic I found makes everything look fuzzy and hazy from fog, so fog and mist there shall be. But only in this area and it looks like the Zhangjiajie National Forest.

"Optimus!"

The high pitch squeal and the tinny clank of metal against metal alerts Megatron to the surprise visitor. Turning to his right he sees the Sumdac sparkling in her true form hugging the side of Optimus' helm.

"Sari?" He asks with a shocked, but jovial grin, which only grew as another bot entered the mobile command center, "Ratchet? What are you two doing here?"

"Well that's a great way to greet us," The sparkling pouts as she lands on the Prime's shoulder, "Not even a 'Hi' or 'How you doing?' "

"Ignore her, kid. We're the cavalry," The medic tells him, "Good to see you're doing well."

And as the medic said that he turns a scowl his way, but Megatron gives it little mind before turning back to his reports.

"If I could I would stick my tongue out at you," The tiny femme says before giving her full attention to the Prime, "So Optimus, where is everyone? I didn't see the team on the way over here."

"I'm sorry Sari, it's just me. Prowl, Jazz, and Bulkhead are in the Deneb System and Bumblebee, Wasp, and Blurr have been on Floron III. I believe it's been about two orbital cycles there. They're mostly doing reconnaissances."

And Megatron's dermas upturn about a centimetre at that because knew the true reason those three were away. It was a humorous exchange in which the Little Prime blatantly showed off his temper and petty nature.

Optimus had waited until the end of the war council when Megatron was redistributing his troops again and had politely queried if their deal for the Salvvatan System could be renewed. Megatron knew it would be something different, but allowed him to speak, only to find out Optimus wanted to split his team up and send them to two different systems. Meanwhile, he would stay with Megatron like a 'good Token should' and would of course personally facilitate the next set of battle plans for him.

Megatron saw through that innocently deceptive grin, but being offered the chance to see a reprogrammed archivist's processor in action was too tempting. Megatron would have a pulse on the battlefield in a way he never had before, ranging from accurate count of ammunition rounds used in the midst of battle to managing multiple smaller units that could take split nanoklik orders. He will admit he was greedy enough to want it and if all he had to do was remove some Autobots from underpede it was barely a hardship. He gave Optimus his word and secured his next victory before even ending the meeting. And when they were leaving he caught a wisp of Optimus' EM field lash out like a plasma burn as he walked passed a stunned Shockwave and simply said, ‘Maybe you should think about being kinder’ with the fiercest expression Megatron had seen yet.

But humorous it may be, Megatron was glad for the Prime's overprotective nature this time. Since coming back into their fold Shockwave had not acclimated as well as the spy had foretold. Too many emotions crashed and rolled through the cyclops' field these solar cycles and the constant attempts at courting the blue speedster, while not distracting Shockwave from his duties, were in vain and agitating certain Autobots that wouldn't stop complaining about it. He couldn’t have his Head of Intelligence looking away from the Cause so other measures were needed.

"Oh Floron is the place with the giant floating metal and crystal flowers, right?" The tiny femme asks, "If it is they're so lucky." 

"Yes. How? ........ Sari... You’re not speaking English."

Now that does have Megatron taking notice as he lifts his helm to gauge the tiny sparkling of his jailer. Her optics gleam with excitement as she stands from her spot looking quite smug with herself.

"Nope! Ratchet's been making sure I have an education in the middle of all of this and has been teaching me. Omega’s been helping me out a lot with the speaking part even though I downloaded most of your language already. Or at least the rules and a ton of vocab."

"You can do that?" Optimus asks, astounded, but clearly proud of her.

"Yep! Found out by accident like a month ago, but it works out since everyone here talks in trippy EDM noises, sighs, and grunts," Then as if a switch has been flipped the femme crosses her arms and her optics narrow, "And let me tell you it is insane. Do you know how hard it is to pronounce the word 'easy'? It sounds like a sigh turning into a sneeze. And on top of that some of you Bots and Cons have the oddest noises and I can’t always catch what someone is saying because I’m too busy listening to the sounds of what can only be a lawnmower dying via another lawnmower or a microwave giving birth." She rants, throwing her servos up to the ceiling petulantly.

At that moment Slipstream walks in and stops to squint at the techno-organic in confusion before rolling her optics and walking over to the sims-table to hand over her rosters and plans. Though Optimus continues to look faintly distress.

"What?" He asks quietly.

"Tyger Pax and Altihex, respectively." The medic fills in with a heavy vent, obviously tired of listening to this topic again.

It works to clear up Optimus' expression somewhat, but serves to further confuse him. Megatron knows of the foreign words used from her home planet, but he never cared to download the definitions into a memory bank. Whatever the comparison, it was not flattering.

"Don't worry Optimus, you don't sound like that," She tells him, "Your voice is way cooler."

"It's that Iaconic schooling." The medic grumbles.

"You're just upset that you sound like a blender coughing up a violin," The tiny femme snips at the medic before turning back to Optimus, "You sound like all those soft sci-fi noises. Kinda like Omega except his are really deep and — Oh! He'll be so happy to see you! He really misses all you guys."

Optimus' smile seems to freeze before he turns to look up at him and Megatron stares back indifferently, letting his silence unnerved the Prime.

"I trust you can find your way back after half a megacycle." He states.

"Yes." Optimus answers quickly, wincing at his own eagerness. 

"Very well."

Looking back and forth between them the Sumdac femme turns a highly suspicious look at Optimus, "What was —"

"I'll explain later Sari," Optimus softly cuts her off, "I'm more interested in how the Autobots have been treating you?"

Squinting at him, not believing a word he spoke, the tiny Sumdac turns a suspicious optic to him as does the medic with a churlish glare. But getting nothing from him, she turns back to Optimus to talk about how everyone thinks she's some kind of rebel minicon because she speaks Neocybex and not Binary.

Ignoring the ramble, Megatron turns back to Slipstream to discuss their security around the camp. It was crucial for this planet as Regulon IV had Metalmongers nested in the soft surface. This location was picked for its tough metaphoric surface and for the cover of the towering pillars and Iodine jungle, though the near constant mist could be an issue. Even so, the wretched creatures traveled when they pleased so they could never be too sure. But still as a whole this planet was actually quite advantageous for the Qidrieds to use as a base to attack other planets in the Regulon system because of the fear of those creatures. This is why they needed to remove the aliens from here as quickly as possible or run the chance of being hunted and attacked.

And despite those pressing matters the Autobot side of the campaign was late.

_We are in between the camps. How is one late to their own camp’s meeting that they called for!_

But as two blurs of color slam into his Air Commander and his Token Megatron is given his first clue.

"Slipstream ma'am!"

"Optimus Prime sir!"

The Seeklets gravitate to them like a star to a black hole and stepping out of the way the two pull the two shocked bots together for a giant impromptu hug as the Sumdac femme laughs uproariously and the Seeklets talk a hic a nanoklik.

"Hello Jetfire. Jetstorm." Optimus wheezes with a pained smile.

"I see the frequency of speaking is still the same." Slipstream huffs as she moves about until she can return the hug lightly.

"Are we not fast enough anymore?" The blue one fakes a pout that is quickly overturned into a grin.

Smirking, she nods, "There is someone who definitely speaks faster than you." 

"We must meet them," The orange one calls out loudly, "Show them who has fastest mouth."

"Agreed brother!" 

"Attention! Fall in!"

And as that obnoxious Prime from the _Steelhaven_ stomps in Megatron's previous question is answered. He had hoped he wouldn't have to hear from Magnus' poor choice of a successor ever again, but the universe was not on his side. The two Seeklets pause before letting go of their captured prey and going to stand in front of the fuming Prime with a proper salute.

"You two, what was that?! You're not at ease unless I say so," Dismissing them to the side of the tent he scans the rest of the company as two more Autobots arrive behind him, "Now that everyone is here lets get this meeting started. That means no non-essential personnel allowed." Giving the medic a very pointed look.

Not rebuffed in the slightest the medic crosses his arms, "I'm pretty sure I'm one of your most essential personnel here."

"He has a point Sentinel Prime," The older Autobot says, "Ratchet is —"

"Will get his orders when they're finalized." The Prime cuts him off harshly.

"I think it would better if he stayed —"

"Yeah! That's not fair," The tiny femme jumps to the defense of the medic louder than Optimus, "I don't see you helping a giant robot fight, Chinmus Prime."

Most of the occupants can’t help a snort at the aptly said insult with only Optimus valiantly trying to hold in a laugh by biting his bottom derma. But a loud sharp chuckle from the relic of a medic draws everyone's attention, mostly because it was more like coughing than laughter.

Shaking his helm he vents heavily, "I needed that," Sighing happily he holds a servo out for the tiny femme, "It's fine Sari. I can go to the meeting the other medics are having. Get something useful done around here." He adds with a smirk.

"But... okay," She deflates and steps off into his waiting servo, "But I better get to try out one of the sharper tools."

Shaking his helm again the medic leaves, but not before stopping to look back at Optimus with a questioning look.

"I'll meet you at Omega Supreme about mid-day, okay."

"You better." He grumbles before stepping out of the command unit.

Clearing his intake the 'Chinmus Prime' calls attention to himself as he steps up to the sims-table activating his set of hard light figures, "Now that's gone —"

"They have names."

Pausing the other Prime glares at Optimus only for him to match his glare, "If you're going to talk about them, their names are Ratchet and Sari."

The stare-off lasts less than a cycle, but as Magnus' Second diverts the topic at hand it's easy to see Optimus is the victor.

"We have more important things to discuss," And gestures to the two others that came with him to step forward, "This is Retro Minor. He'll be assisting me with the Autobots' ground assault and this is Wheeljack. Head of the Engineering department in the Ministry of Science and our best weapon designer specializing in explosives."

Then the Prime smirks and gives Megatron a look of 'top that' like the pretentious little —

“Like Tripline.” Slipstream and Optimus say in the same exhausted tone.

_Oh joy. Another one._

“Who’s that?” This Wheeljack asks.

“The Deputy Head of Intelligence, but he's also a demo.... enthusiast. He’s good at it, but he’s a bit more overzealous at times.” Optimus explains in a kind, though disappointed, tone.

It was truly remarkable that Optimus could make anyone sound better than they deserved because Megatron has more holes in his warships from that mech than Autobot blaster fire.

“Sounds fantastic! I’ll have to meet him some time.” The engineer beams, his audial fins flashing brightly.

"Just explain your plan." The other Prime grumbles, his plan to flaunt his side's abilities failed.

The engineer goes on to explain how he and his team were putting the finishing touches on an experimental explosive, a bioweapon to be precise, that in theory would deny the Qidrieds the ability to shapeshift temporarily. While most of their body was organic they contained mechanical elements much higher than other organics should possess and they could link these extra elements to their abilities. But as usual, the scientist felt the need to explain every section of his research and the designs for the compact bomb, though for better dispersal an aerosol approach would be better in his opinion.

Understanding the most important parts Megatron ignores the lecture to check on his ground force commander who was building up reinforcement against Metalmongers and distributing supplies. Finishing his incognito messaging with Blockade, Megatron unmutes his audials and comes back to a mostly bored room with Optimus and the Autobot Minor struggling to follow along. The Seeklets were playing with their abilities and were up to five fire balls being juggled in air. Magnus' Second looks as if he was trying not to fall into recharge standing up while Slipstream looked as if she had already fallen into recharge with draping herself over Optimus' shoulderstructs. The Autobot didn't seem particularly bother, much different from when they were on Praum, and Slipstream did the same whenever she was forced to stand still for long periods of time, ie a couple of nanokliks.

"— But they're not perfected, as I said, so they'll be our last resort because... well we don’t know how they’ll react. But what a better time to test them then now, right!" The engineer beams, his audials near white in his excitement.

"Yes. Fantastic," Slipstream draws, leaning even more heavily on his Token, "Now that we have used a megacycle to understand the triggering mechanism of a grenade I would like to get on to the actual planning of this war meeting."

Resetting his vox, Megatron glowers at the other Prime when he tries to speak up. His actions had already cost them a megacycle and every moment was important.

"If there are no objections I think we should be briefed about the aerial attacks. Slipstream, if you would." Nodding in her direction.

"With pleasure. Tiny Prime! My formations." She tells Optimus as she props herself up to very casually drum her claws on his shoulderstructs as she moves away.

Her claws delicately brushes over his plating and up the back of his helm and over a finial. Megatron follows the claw closely and how Optimus moves with it, so not to be accidentally slashed, and a tendril of irritation pushes at the base of his helm. As Optimus lowers his newly acquired visor, Megatron focuses on the projection of aerial formations and not that brief, but peculiar, reaction.

Slipstream lays out a series of plans that build upon each other, from air support to waves of attacks, each with a contingent for if any of the Seekers or the Autobots they are supporting are cut off from the rest of the army. And each movement causes an extraordinary amount of damaged to the Qidrieds, showing her to be as ruthless as Starscream, but leagues more practical for having a secondary plan if the first one fails. His former second was always too arrogant and prideful to admit that a plan could fall apart.

And while there were small similarities to her original copy, Slipstream was all her own bot and much quicker on the draw, whether it be wit or action. As shown when the Magnus' Second cuts her off with some innate comment and she throws a hard light figure pass his helm with remarkable accuracy that causes everyone on the other side of the table to flinch.

"I didn't finish speaking," Slipstream says calmly, glaring down the Minor pointing an arm blade at her, "It’s rude to interrupt." 

"So you what?! Throw —"

"I believe my Air Commander made herself perfectly clear," Megatron rumbles, silencing the room. Turning to Slipstream he asks, "Anything else to add?"

"Not at this time my liege." She grins devilishly with her fangs on display.

"Very good. I believe at this time it would be best if we discuss the ground attacks and the best way to coordinate with the aforementioned aerial attacks."

He outlines his plans for a staggered attack from diagonal fronts with two main ground forces that will circle around the Qidrieds’ flanks and a third for a forward attack. He explains all of this with the level of efficiency he's known for and finishes quickly, leaving the Magnus' Second with extra time to babble about his side's attack plan. It was a practice in patience as Megatron attempts to keeps himself from rolling his optics several times while cursing himself for not leading his Decepticons to victory before this alien invasion. Everything this Prime listed was mid-level manual offensive strategies at best and easily out-maneuverable. And beside that Megatron was sure something was missing —

_This fool has forgotten about the base camp._

With the Autobots' overwhelming numbers they were supposed to protect the camps without having it look like they were. Finally rolling his optics at this disaster Megatron catches Optimus' faceplates furrowed in concern. Glancing over fully, he sees his visor light up and the concern becomes a frown.

"Excuse me. I'm sorry to interrupt Sentinel, but how are you going to make up for the defense of the base camps and the opening towards the east?" Optimus asks quietly before highlighting the areas on the map, "This isn't going to be won in a solar cycle. All indications and renderings point to this site being a couple solar cycles worth of fighting at least."

Turning to the Magnus' Second he raises an optic ridge and sees the Prime's plating raise and an optic twitch in fury.

"I assume the second-in-command of the Autobots must have a plan to rectified this oversight." Megatron states, ignoring the glare from Optimus for antagonizing his fellow Autobot.

"Wha-I-uh-Yes! " The navy Prime struggles to collect himself and everyone around him grimacing at the fact, "Of course. It's uh —"

"You don’t. Typical," Megatron sighs in fake disappointment and looks back at holo-map.

Looking at it Megatron can see the problem he and Optimus noticed, but not the second problem or any way to fortified those two points, meaning it had to be a perception issue. Walking around to Optimus, Megatron leans over him, bracing a servo on the rim of the table and tries to replicate his Token's view. Only then can he clearly see the problems plaguing the eastern flank.

"We need to fortify along the southern gorge, but can’t ask for reinforcements from the Autobots there because we will need them to fall back to be placed as the rear defense."

Optimus' finials flick against his chassis armor in annoyance, but ignores his closer proximity.

"You're partially right. We can’t have the whole mass of that battalion, but we can ask for backup in smaller groups," Optimus says and begins to highlight different areas as he explains, "If we set up and stagger groups of about twenty in a diagonal going from most offensive to defensive then we don't need as many bots there. Then the eastern hills area I mention before is half way between us and enemy lines. It has a view of the southern gorge we just removed a bulk of our forces from and would be a perfect location to be used as a second covert command station, and or, a location for spotting snipers and a snipers' nest. We can move one of the Intel teams there, combined of course, while the other team can stay just before base camp as another layer of protection. This also leaves another protected area that Seekers can uses as an approach and give the aerial dive-bomb teams time to make two runs instead of one and confused the Qidrieds about which way they're attacking from."

Megatron glances to Slipstream and she nods in agreement about the runs so stepping to the side he moves the pieces suggested and pauses to look at it all as the whole plan runs through his processor. It was a brilliant use of the landscape and the Autobots' sub-divisions, but Megatron makes a show of thinking it over. The silence goads Optimus into turning towards him questioningly. He makes a considering noise before looking to his Token, who was doing a horrible job of trying to not look eager for his response.

"Doable."

For a brief moment a small smile appears only for Optimus to look away as he presses at his audial bolt to hide the visor and effectively hide his faceplates. And while his field was kept tight Megatron was close enough to sense the jumble wisps of confusion, suspicion, and thankfulness coming from Optimus.

"I believe that concludes the meeting for this solar cycle. Make changes to the cycles and have them sent to every commander and lieutenant," He orders Optimus, who was already pulling out a datapad and downloading the cycles to a platform, "Slipstream, brief your Seekers and Flyers of the changes and when you have time get these Seeklets ready for their first flight with an aerial attack force."

Then looking down at the other Prime, who was flabbergasted for some reason, Megatron narrows his optics in disgust as this mech could create a number of problems in his position.

"If we must discuss the arrangement of teams and battalions it will be tomorrow," He tells the Prime before making his way to the doors, his Token and Air Commander behind him, "Remind me. I'm bound to forget about him." He says in a indifferent tone.

"Verbal or by alarm?" Comes Optimus' cheeky reply.

Megatron swiftly silences that with a light flicks to the finial closest to him, smirking at the resulting sharp squeak.

"Don't worry Token. We’ll see to it." Blockade tells him, sounding much less harsh with him than all those orbital cycles ago.

"I know you will." And giving him a nod Optimus turns to leave the edge of the encampment for the _Talon_.

Though his rounds of check-ups were done he still needed to organize the reports and pick apart Wheeljack's lecture so he could decide whether or not this bioweapon would be needed, and if sadly it was, the best places to place the bombs. Which would then need Megatron's and Sentinel's approval and won't that be fun. Then he would would need to pull a team to place them and —

Stopping as something moves in his peripheral, Optimus turns to see Sentinel leaning against a set of stacked crates of heavy artillery shells. It was surprising to see Sentinel on the Decepticons' side of the encampment, but as the highest ranking Autobot here it shouldn't be weird to see him from time to time. Though Optimus had a feeling it would likely be less about the joint war effort and more of him demanding something from Megatron. But looking at his former friend’s faceplates, the way his optics were, narrowed and steely, and how his dermas were pulled down into their usual disgruntled grimace Optimus knew he had something to say.

"Probably not what you thought when you tried to get back into the Guard with this whole mess of a plan." Sentinel taunts.

With a shallow vent Optimus' dermas thin into a frown. He wanted to get a rise out of him, but Optimus neither wanted to interact with the other or had the time to. 

"What are you talking about Sentinel?" He asks calmly.

His question is met with a brief show of anger and disappointment, but in what, he couldn't tell.

"I’m talking about the fact that Ultra Magnus basically gave you up for this treaty. That you really don't mean that much to him if he just dumped you as soon as he got you back. Now you're just Megatron's little shadow. A ‘token’ I believe the Council called it," Pushing off the crates he shakes his helm, tutting at him like he was talking to a disobedient mechanimal, "I guess once a scrub always a scrub."

"Sentinel. I really don’t have the time or energy —"

"Ha! Of course not. You’re just a secretarybot now, no heavy lifting required."

Stepping in front of him Sentinel blocks the quickest way to the Talon, smirking as he takes a few extra steps to stand right in front of him. Then like a predator he starts to circle Optimus with a sly grin.

"But it’s probably a flux come true isn’t it? Not doing anything too strenuous... At least not before the ‘after-megacycles’ work,” He accuses, “I mean you used to fantasize about Megatron at the Academy and now you get to do him in real life."

"I didn’t. And no one is doing anyone! It’s not like that," Optimus defends himself. His low annoyance becoming a simmering anger, "He only wants me to help with his generals —"

The sudden snort from behind him cuts him off, but it's the harsh guffaw afterwards when Sentinel walks back around that has Optimus stepping away. But with a sharp turn Sentinel's dark glare stops Optimus short. Smug or annoyed he could handle, but this, he wasn't sure what Sentinel was feeling or how he was about to react.

"Oh really? Nothing's happening? I saw what happened in the command tent. That winged bitch was all over you for a whole megacycle _and_ you didn't even flinched when Megatron basically bent you over the sims-table. And that little fragging smile you had when Megatron barely complimented you? Everyone saw that too. Are you really that easy?"

With another nasty chuckle he starts closing the distance and Optimus goes to take a step back - wants to - but can't move.

"I guess you really must be nothing more than a buymech, shareware really, if you let them handle you like that. Then again you never had much of a backstruct," Then with a truly malicious grin Sentinel use his extra two mechanometers to loom over him, "Though you must be doing something right on your back to keep them fighting with us."

Optimus tries to move again or just turn off his aduials, but he can't, he just can't. It’s as if his hydraulics were frozen solid and now he was trapped listening to Sentinel talk about something he knew could have been nearly true.

He heard what some of the other Decepticons whispered. Saw how they watched him and any of his team, most in confusion or indifference, but a few stares were filled with want and Optimus hated it. But he brushed it off, letting it roll off his plating and continued to do his work. Yes, there was still a fear that Megatron would change his mind as he was not known to be gentle in any way. But even with Optimus' own experiences the worry that Megatron would force him into his berth dissipated with each passing orbital cycle. But hearing Sentinel, a former friend, a fellow Autobot, accusing him of wanting to be taken when it very much could have without ever having a say in it —

The hard knock to his shoulder pushes Optimus off balance and he's sure he would have fallen if someone hadn't grabbed his arm, but seeing who it was he wish he had fell. Sentinel glares down at him and the hatred and anger in his field scratched across his own as Optimus tries to pull away, but it's halfsparked at best. Reapplying his grip Sentinel pulls him further down, widening the differences in height.

"Don't act like you’re actual contributing anything to this," He whispers threateningly, "Your little upstart move back there means nothing. You weren’t meant to lead and your rank isn't real. You didn't earn it," Then in an instant Sentinel's faceplactes clear as if he just understood something only to sneer at him, "Or maybe you did... Berthwarmer." 

Pushing Optimus away Sentinel dusts his servos off and walks off to the Autobot encampment, disappearing into the light fog and leaving Optimus burning.

It was like a punch to the throat and from there the shame creeps in, weighting him down, smothering him again. Shame from something he didn’t even do, but it was there all the same, pushing down on his spark — _How... How could someone ... How could he say that to me when - He's hurt. I know he's still hurt, but I thought - He used to be such a good friend - Why? — _Optimus wants to be angry, furious, but he can't. And he doesn't know why! It felt like his spark was going to burn into the side of his spark chamber and he just wants to curl up and make it stop. Make it — 

"He’s such a impertinent and arrogant fool," The sharp raspy quality of Slipstream's voice and her firm grip on his shoulder are a plasma sword cutting through his suffocating thoughts. In increments he raises his helm and is met with a hard smirk before she looking the way Sentinel left, "I could shoot him for what he said about me. For you too if you're up to it?” 

"...You would any way even if I said no." Optimus says slowly, feeling inordinately tired.

"You know me so well."

"Please don’t do that...And no friendly fire either."

"The treaty isn’t done yet, it would still be claimed as enemy fire," But the moment after she's crossing her arms and grimacing, "Though knowing him he would probably lie and brag about how he got it bravely defending this planet." She surmises, her wingstructs sliding down and shaking in intervals.

Any defense of his former friend falls flat before it makes it off his glossa and Optimus can only sigh as he knew it was true.

"He shouldn’t be allowed to spread rumors like that."

"No, he shouldn’t," Shoulders sagging at that bitter anger that was only now rising Optimus mutters, “It hadn't stopped him from before.”

Slipstream glances down and doesn't look at all surprised to hearing this, "My offer to shoot him is still on the table if you ever decide to." And with that she turns to leave him be.

He doesn't know when he started moving, processor full of barbed glyphs said and actions not taken. It left him wondering if it would have been better if Megatron had followed the old ways and would just have his way with him. Or if Ultra Magnus would have ever sunk that low...

_I wouldn’t have to hear the rumors then. They'd be true._

Shaking his helm, Optimus' tanks quell at that sickening thought – at all these thoughts – and tries to push them away, instead telling himself he was needed and doing anything else would make his useless to the fight. But it was as hollow as he felt now.

"Well, well, well. Look what the capacitor dragged in."

Blinking, slowly, Optimus looks up and sees he had made it not only onto the _Talon, _but was on the upper decks. Looking over to Blackarachnia she smirks and makes a show of recrossing her legs in a dramatic fashion as she leans back against the now tinted window.

“Is that look all for me or did you just wake-up on the wrong side of the berth?"

The queasiness rises again at the mention of that word and he has to look away, "Not now Blackarachnia."

Turning around to get to his true location he can hear her jumping off the windowsill and following after him, "Oh? What’s got your circuits crossed?" 

"... Just Sentinel being Sentinel." He says trying to remain as calm as he could, even as his finials bend forward blocking some of his view of Blackarachnia.

"Not surprising. He's kinda crankcase." She scoffs.

"You didn’t used to think that." He says lightly, glancing at her.

She nods her helm from side to side as if weighting the statement, but shrugs nonchalantly in the end, "Well crisis brings out the worst in people."

They walk in silence for a few more mechanometers before the silence is stifling him, "Is there a reason why you’re following me?" He asks softly.

"Not particularly."

"So you're just here to mock me when something comes to mind." He concludes solemnly.

"Yeah pretty much."

"As much as I enjoy this 'wonderful' display of disgust you have for me I’ve had enough verbal reminders for one solar cycle," He tells her quietly, but Optimus can hear his voice shake, "I would appreciate it if you didn’t add to it."

She stares at him, her blank look morphing into a disappointed frown - just one of many he had caused today - and turns her back on him, "... You know you can’t save everyone."

Optimus watches as she blends into the darkness of the ship and sighs, shoulders slouching and in a brief moment of weakness lets himself lean against the wall, trying to just silence and dull everything.

* * *

Sadly, working didn't have its usual effect.

Optimus knows he overthought different proposals until he wasn't sure what was possible anymore or he just blankly stared at an empty platform that was ready for him to type in. After making it through half of his workload and sending all his contingency plans to Megatron to sort out Optimus steps away for his work as a reminder pops up on his HUD about his meeting with Ratchet and Sari.

He was both parts excited to see them, but scared of their response when he told them about the current situation he found himself in. He also didn't want another confrontation with Sentinel. He wasn't prepare before and even if he was now Optimus was staggering against a deep aching tiredness just thinking about the other Autobot. But it was likely he wouldn't see them again until after this area was secure so Optimus wasn't going to give up this chance. If he saw Sentinel he would just make a detour, he needed to see his team - his family - and that outweighed his growing dislike of his old friend.

"Oooohhh!"

Pausing at the excited noise Optimus replays the sound and realizes that it was one of the twins, Jetstorm to be precise. Walking toward the door that the noise came from the doors open to a Seeker ledge with the high ceiling actually open to let in the late sunlight. The surprising factor was that the ledge was entirely empty except for Slipstream, Jetstorm, and Jetfire sitting up on a high ledge.

Curiosity and worry getting the better of him, Optimus quietly walks in and gets close enough hear,

"— now Starscream thought that, but I asked others and they said that they did see bots with doorwings as ancestors, but more likely descendants. Which I understand and I don't have a problem with it. They'd understand better than any other grounders. Also I know Starscream was a fragging moron so I'm not that surprised. You know he tried over three thousand times and still couldn't slag Megatron. An absolute piece of scrap slag."

Cringing at the use of those words around the twins he calls up, "What's going on here?"

"Optimus Prime!"

"Optimus — Eeck!"

Hearing Jetstorm in pain Optimus quickly grapples up the wall, ready to take the twins to safety only to find no one hurt. Instead Jetfire is snickering at his brother's misfortune and Jetstorm was pouting as he rubs his helm.

"Now what would you have done if I had missed the digit and split something else open?" Slipstream asks with her usual snippy tone.

"Sorry Slipstream ma'am."

"And you!" Pointing an accusatory claw at his crouched pose Optimus holds himself immaculately still, "Don't get your cables in a bunch. I'm not hurting them. I'm just teaching them about their heritage, its important to pass on," He's not sure what face he makes, but it has her rolling her optics in displeasure, "All this info from Starscream has to be useful for something."

And looking pass her and Jetstorm he can see that's exactly what she was doing as the holo-pad beside them was showing off images of different parts of the forbidden city of Vos.

"Yes Optimus Prime sir! She teach us all the flying traditions and history of ...Vos. " Jetfire says excitedly only to whisper the city-state's name.

"Hm! She is the best one to teach us too. She is like our sister!" Jetstorm adds.

With a frown she vent heavily, though her field is light, "Yes, it seems I have more 'brothers'. "

And Optimus can't help the small teasing smile, "Congratulations. It's twins this time," He says, taking a seat on the edge of the ledge.

"Hilarious." She says dryly before returning to her task, which when he takes notice leaves Optimus momentarily lost for words.

"...Are you... sharpening their digits?"

"Yes!" Jetfire jumps over and shows off his finished tiny claws by tapping them next to his leg.

"It’s truly appalling. They don’t know anything about what it means to be a Seeker so I’m rectifying that."

"By sharpening their digits?"

"No self-respecting Seeker would have dull talons. Look at this. Barely there!" She shouts waving Jetstorm's unfinished servo in his face, "It's unacceptable! And Hook said it was perfectly safe for me to proceed. And they asked, if you’re worried about that too." She smirks as he close his mouth, both his questions answered before he could even ask.

"We asked Optimus Prime sir and we be showing everyone." Jetstorm beams.

"Even Sentinel Prime." Jetfire says and they both get this gleam in their optics that reminded him of Sari before she got up to mischief with her Key.

It takes a moment, but looking over Jetfire's shoulder Optimus asks faintly, "You’re sending them back?"

The 'like this' was not specified, but Slipstream's conniving grin, brimming with fangs, has Optimus attempting to stop his dermas from twitching into a smile as he struggles not to laugh at the images he could already imagine. To put it plainly, it would be an interesting mess.

"Who me?"

"You’re innocent look is the same as the scheming one."

"I know," Slipstream says with pride as she finishes up with Jetstorm’s servo, "There. Now make sure you sharpen them on other surfaces and remember touch the screens with the pads of your digits. Off with you." And waves them away.

The two nod and jump into the air, taking off through the opening above as they chatter and laugh at each other. Smiling at the pair Optimus was glad they could spend time with another flyer, even though they were all Decepticons. Though there were less friendlier bots they could have gravitated too than Slipstream. But they were so much happier, at peace, than the last time he saw them and Optimus didn't want that ruin.

"I don’t really approve of you using them for revenge." He says looking away from the open ceiling.

She watches him with a blank gaze tossing up the sharpener a few times before looking down at it and subspacing it and the holo-pad. 

"I am almost a stellar cycle old, but do you believe me naive?" She asks standing up.

Following suit Optimus isn't sure how he insulted her, but tries to reassure her he didn't mean to, "No. You're very determined, knowledgeable, and confident in everything that you do."

Smirking down at him her wings hike up and flutter, "That's correct. With that in mind, even though they are young, I think you should assume that they aren’t as naive as they look. They have audials like everyone else."

Not sure where she's going with this Optimus let's her continue without interruption.

"Our sensory programming is extraordinarily tuned and not just our wings. Seekers need to be able to hear at high speeds and different altitudes. We basically hear everything." She says in a grim tone and it leaves Optimus speechless as he realizes what she was saying.

"I think you’re going to be late for your half megacycle break if you stand here gaping at me." And with that she too jumps up and transform going off in the opposite direction of the twins and leaving Optimus oddly grateful, but also feeling empty that more mechas knew about his dispute with Sentinel.

Whatever happened with Sentinel was worse than it was on the _Steelhaven_ because for the past three solar cycles Optimus had been almost deathly quiet if he wasn't prompted to speak by Megatron, Slipstream, or Blockade. Watching from the shadows hadn't given Blackarachnia any information and she couldn't and wouldn't go spying on the Autobots to find out if Sentinel had let his mouth run about what _might_ of happened.

And despite not really wanting to get involved she became involved because the little brat - now equipped with jetpack - hadn't left her alone since she spotted her. She tried to ignore her and focus on reverse engineering the hyperspace coil so she could provide a potential energy source since there wasn't one 'collected'. But once again that nagging little human buzzed around the other side of her helm to watch her actions. Then for a blessed nanoklik she floated in mid-air and said nothing.

"You forgot to check —"

Slamming her servos on the counter she hisses, "Why are you here!?"

Bad enough she was here in general, but Blackarachnia couldn't pretend she didn't understand the little pest because she was now bilingual and how in the Pit did that even happen?!

"Well let me tell you it was not easy," The pest says in an annoyed huff. Leaning an elbow on the counter Blackarachnia rest her helm in her servo and watches the ensuing rant, "The guys were super scared about me coming along and my dad said it wasn't my fight. But like the fights you guys were having were totally not my fight either, but I still helped. I told them I could easily take care of myself and showed them that I could be helpful. I was the one to get our little prototype bridge to reach the beyond my solar system and used that to bribe them into letting me come... As along as I promise to stay by Ratchet's grumpy butt in case anything went wrong because no where is safer than Omega Supreme."

Then the human pauses looking away unsure before continuing in a more sedated tone.

"But really I... I wanted to help because even though it wasn't my fight before it is now because I am part Cybertronian and I should help anyway I can. I mean that's what the guys taught me. And even though I don't know a lot about my other home it doesn't make it any less my home and I deserve to learn about it. But how can I do that if something happens to it? So I have to help... And, it just feels like I have to, like I was called to."

"Disgustingly noble, but I meant in the lab." Blackarachnia says dryly as she taps at the counter.

She freezes and looks up slowly before rubbing the back of her helm as her fins tilt down, "Oh... Well... The twins let me in when they went looking for Slipstream," And Blackarachnia grimaces as that snippy diva hadn't return her edgeshaper to her yet, "Also... We may have not gotten off on the right foot. Like ever. But well, you're the only one who knows what this is like. Being one thing than becoming another."

Fixing the minicon-sized femme with a flat look Blackarachnia stands to her full height to be optic level with the other techno-organic, "So let me get this straight. You tracked me down so you could have a femme pal to talk your change over with?"

The only words that she could come up for it was uncomfortable and incredible irritating. Surely she could figure that out, Blackarachnia had been trying to change herself back with more vigor since the Key was put in play and it wasn't just for cosmetic reasons. It was really about the underlying pain and chronic discomfort she experienced when she tried to preform any action that her half soft frame wouldn't allow anymore.

"I would, but if you don’t then do you mind if I hang around? I won’t be a bother. I promise!" She begs and Blackarachnia can see 'fugitive' written over her like a neon sign.

"That remains to be seen." Blackarachnia tells her as she remembers, distinctly, that she was in fact a bother.

"Guilty as charged," The yellow femme does a loop the loop and lands next the coil, "But I’ll make an exception for you. I just needed to get away from Ratchet and his mother-henning. And I can help you with your little project too."

And even though she can't see a smile with the battlemask up Blackarachnia is an old pro in spotting someone smiling behind one, except this one is full of smugness.

"Oh joy."

But with her new 'assistant' and her bizarre power to talk to machinery Sari actually helps her narrow down her experiments to having the new coil running on liquid Trillium or dodecahedrons of Illerium. Besides that, Blackarachnia refuses to admit she did enjoy having someone else talk to her and not give her a weird side-optic because of her animal form or half soft frame. But as usually all good things come to an end for her.

"But that's the difference kid," She vents and tells herself that flicking Sari is more trouble than it's worth, "You were always different and didn’t know it. I was something else entirely and was changed. It's not the same."

"It is a little bit though," Sari ignores her and adds, "One day we both woke up and we weren’t who we used to or thought we be."

Rolling her optics Blackarachnia scoffs, "Yeah it only took an unsanctioned mission for that to happen to me."

Frowning at her sarcasm Sari's 'pigtails' flinch before lowering. And for a brief moment Blackarachnia is sure she got through her tough helm.

"What actually happened?" Sari asks, "Optimus is always all tight-lipped and sad if we mention you. And when I did ask he just said he was too late. That he and Sentinel thought you were dead because they couldn’t get a signal."

"He didn’t tell you he left me. Probably trying to save his image." She tsks.

"Optimus doesn’t care about that."

"And yet it apparently applies to some of his friends."

"Hey! Take that back!" Sari yells jumping into the air and pointing a tiny digit her way.

"Why? It’s the truth," Her dermas twitch into a sneer as she remembers the solar cycle in crystal clear detail, "Obviously he thought Sentinel was worth saving, but not me."

She watches as the tiny frame vibrates in anger before looking down and taking a deep vent, saying very calmly but clearly, "What happened to you?"

Narrowing her optics she reaches out and snatches Sari out of the air so she couldn't leave when her view of Optimus was shattered. She wanted to know? She was going to hear it all.

"You want to know? Fine, but you better listen well," And after some futile struggling Sari slumps in her hold and nods, "Good. Now when we were all in the Academy, mere orbital cycles from graduation, we went to an organic planet for fun and found giant spiders just like me. We tried to get away, but at the last moment your pal Optimus didn’t catch me. Didn’t come back for me!"

Glaring at the large surprised optics staring back at her Blackarachnia vents and mentally smacks herself for getting so emotional around the enemy. Letting go of Sari, she braces her servos on the lab counter and stare at to the coil, hoping that Sari wouldn't be a complete Autobot and ask about her feelings.

"And they both left me there to rot. So how’s your friend looking now?" And as she waits in silence she gets ready to tear into anything Sari has to say.

"Did Optimus ask you to go to the planet?"

... Except for that.

Looking up, Blackarachnia was at a lost at what to say next. When some mechas were brave or curious enough to ask she would tell them and they would agree that Autobots turned their backs on each other the moment they needed to. No one ever asked about them and Blackarachnia realizes she never said anything either.

"Wh.... What?"

"Did he ask or tell you to go to the planet?" Sari asks again.

"...No."

In fact he had been extremely hesitant about going.

"Who did?"

Bristling suddenly at the renew stream of questions she snaps, "Why does that matter?!"

"Because that’s where part of the blame goes," Sari says with a shrugs, "If you didn’t get talked into going this wouldn’t of happened. I mean it’s basic logic or cause and effect."

_"Come on it will be fun," Sentinel tries to persuade Optimus again as they take their seats in the discovery pod, "Think of it as one of those survival courses. We’ve done hundreds of those before." _

_"On or near colonized planets so we can get help if needed." Optimus counters gently and they both shake their helms at their goody two pedes friend._

_"It just a quick look around. It’s not like we’re going camping. We know how much you hate it." She jokes and tries to hold in a laugh as his dermas_ _twist into a frown._

_"It’s not great." Optimus grumbles, his frown very close to a pout._

_"So come on. It’s just sightseeing." She says again and smiles sweetly in the way that always gets Optimus to fall over helping her. He really was too kind for his own good._

_"...I guess," He finally conceited and her and Sentinel high-five at getting through to him, "But at the first sign of danger we need to leave."_

_"Of course you worrybolt. Now lets go have us some fun." Sentinel smiles and changes course of the discovery pod and puts in new coordinates._

Blinking away those forgotten memories she finds Sari staring at her with an expectant look that has her flushing in embarrassment and turning away in a rush.

"It doesn’t mean anything."

"That's not what it looked like. It looks like it means a lot because you were quiet for like a whole minute."

Then with a skeptical look Sari crosses her arms and floats a little higher than Blackarachnia was tall. She feels her intake drops as this tiny femme stares her down like a professor waiting for an answer to a difficult question. Rising to the bait Blackarachnia opens mouth to defend her rightful rage but,

|| Sari? Where are you? ||

Optimus' concern tone echoes in the silent lab causing Sari to wobble mid-air and Blackarachnia can't help the smirks at the small femme being thrown off.

|| I know you can hear me. Ratchet and I are very worri— Ratchet wishes for me to tell you he isn't, but Omega assures me he is — ||

Then just over the comms the faint sound of yelling is mostly blocked by Optimus' slight chuckle.

|| Sari, could you please come back to Omega Supreme? It's getting dark outside and I would feel much better if I knew you were in for the night before leaving. ||

With a world-weary vent, more accurate to see from a Seeker, Sari answers, optics lifted to the ceiling as she glares at it.

|| Ugh. Fine. I'll be there in a bit. ||

|| Thank you Sari. We'll see you soon. ||

Slouching back and groaning she rights herself only to slump over and groan again, "Its like I still have my dad around."

And Blackarachnia finds herself nodding in agreement. She may not know the meaning, but the sound of exasperation is one she usually had when Optimus reminded her of anything that wasn't her prized science assignments. She wasn't like Sentinel, who was three or more behind. Hers were only ever half a datapad —

"Hey," And mentally shaking herself out of lost memories again Blackarachnia looks up to see Sari looking down at her, shyness coming from her weak field, "I’ll look for a way to help you. Once this is all over or whenever Ratchet has to go to Cybertron. I mean I don't really know what you went through, but I know I felt awful, and lost, and all sorts of ickiness when I found out I was part bot. Even if it was part Cybertronian."

When that processes Blackarachnia doesn't have any real bite or sarcasm to throw back.

"Why? Why would you do that for me? Remember, I tried to kill you."

"I — yeah I know. And I don't know," Sari shrugs before scratching the back of her helm, "It's just cool to do good things for others."

Clicking her glossa, Blackarachnia crosses her arms and looks away, "Sounding like some Autobot newframe there."

But not getting an answer she glances back and sees the tiny techno-organic, the only other being in existence somewhat like her, leaving and it has her reaching out.

"Hey!" And as Sari turns back around Blackarachnia drops her servo quickly as she notices she was actually reaching out and leans against the counter, "......Don’t let them prod and poke you too much when you do."

Her optics squint in the way that only a smile could cause and she nods happily, "I’ll annoy them before they do that." Sounding much too proud of that future possibility.

"At least you know your strengths." Blackarachnia says, thankful she didn't try to get any deeper about asking for help.

Then just like that she was gone and Blackarachnia was left with the peace and quiet she craved two megacycles ago, but now, now it was faintly haunted by the thoughts and memories of the worse solar cycle of her life.

_'You persuaded him.' _

_'Told him to go.'_

_'You made the decision already, but wanted Optimus to come. It’s your —'_

"NO! No! No. No..."

Desperately brushing away the tears that were gathering in her optics Blackarachnia's sensors in her helmet pick up something of a thicker consistency and that's when she begins to notice the pain. Glancing down she sees that she had smashed her fists into some nearby glass tubes, slicing open her palm on it's jagged fragments. Sighing at her overemotional response she shakes the energon dripping from her servo and holds it close as she walks back to her room hopeful that some of her stolen med-patches were still hidden away. 

* * *

After two solar cycles of hiding more than usual Blackarachnia knew the silence was too good to be true.

Simply crawling along an overhang near the invisible divide between the two base camps she catches the vibrations of sound before she hears the voices. Backing up and crouching closer to the shadows Blackarachnia waits for them to go pass because she wasn't juvenile enough to jump out and scare them... at least right now.

"— seen him right?"

"How could I not? He’s the brightest thing there surrounded by the Cons."

That catches her interest, and crawling out of the shadows enough to see who was talking she sees a tall pale green femme and a fuchsia and a red stout mech. They had they're weapons drawn, telling her that they were some form of light guard duty, or they would have been given blasters. Watching them as they come closer Blackarachnia becomes privy to the subject they’re talking about.

"True, his colors are really striking for just being primary ones, but that’s not what I’m talking about you piston and you know it," The femme laughs, "I’m saying have you _seen_ him. Like scrap! Those legs. I'm very 'Optimistic' I'd have the best time with him if he'd let me."

"You and your fetish for legs," The mech shakes his helm as he chuckles along, "Also that was an awful pun."

"Hey, a femme like what she likes," And with a shrug she shares a sleazy grin with her friend, "And how could you not when his are mostly protoform plating."

"Okay, okay. You've got me there and to each their own. But let's talk about those dermas," The mech grins back and it was more smarmy than his friend's. With a short moan he gets a glazed over look in his optics that has Blackarachnia shaking in fury, "I bet they're as soft as they look and that would feel so nice."

"I bet they do and honestly I’m surprise he's moving so well. Just yesterday I saw him helping move more cargo from one of the medical ships. Saw him bend completely over for something."

"Lucky. Well maybe his valve has finally gotten loose enough that it doesn't matter."

The anger that sweeps over her is a very old one, one she hadn't had in centuries; protective rage. Nothing made her more livid at the Academy than those who leered and sexualized Optimus just because he looked good. He was a bot too! And it seems her grudge against Optimus' inaction didn't stop her from being overprotective of him and his lack of self-respect. 

"Still can't believe he would just take it like a pleasurebot though."

"I mean that's what a Token does right? Probably leans backs and thinks of Cybertron." And they both chuckle at that.

Unable to listen to any more Blackarachnia drops down, her size enough to push them both down, and when they turn their helms they take one look at her and begin to scream.

"Shut. Up."

Immediately they are silent. Transforming she lands on their backstructs, digging her heels in as she reaches out to grab hold of their necks and squeezing them tight so they would think twice about making noise unless she allowed it.

"Now I have venom coursing through my pumps and right now an extremely short fuse," She hisses as she tightens the hold and lets her claws push lightly into their main energon tubing. Hearing the whimpers she knows she has their utmost attention, "So if you want to make it out online you will tell me where you heard that load of slag."

* * *

"Sentinel!"

Storming up to him, the mech standing next to him makes the right decision to take a generous few steps back.

"What the slagging Pit is your problem?!"

Only flinching half as much as last time, an improvement really, he tries to appear collected, "What do you want Decepticon?"

"I want to know why you’re going around telling lies about Optimus and what a Token is!?" She snaps.

"Oh that." 

"Oh that? Yes that! What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," Sentinel huffs, rolling his optics and carefully keeping them off her, "And I'm also not the one complaining about my problems to the mechas I’ve wronged."

"He didn't tell me anything," Blackarachnia says as she moves to her left to back in his sights, "It's just that I know you two dimsparks well enough to know his pitiful attitude and your smug one were likely caused by the same thing."

"I don't see why you're concerned. I though you hated us?" He says, moving his optics to the right.

Her out loud cackle draws more than a few stares and gets Sentinel looking at her again, "He is _not_ my favorite bot by a long shot, but I'm not going around saying he's nothing more than a common pleasurebot. That's just low and disgusting of you."

Even though some parts of that were true at one point they were archaic now or so Tripline explained. And so far Megatron had made no advances towards Optimus so she left it alone and watched the two get on each other's last circuits. She would be all for any other sort of torture and humiliation, but not that. Never that. 

"And you're telling me that's not what’s happening?" Sentinel smirks as if he knew something important, "I heard it from Alpha Trion himself."

"I doubt that," She counters easily, rolling her optics at his sudden frown, "That artifact of a bot couldn't stand you. It's more likely you heard it and decided to run with it to make his life more miserable. Any other time I'd be all for it, but he is literally one of the few things keeping us Decepticons in this war. You doing this is going to make it harder for everyone."

"And what? You know better?"

"Duh! I live with Decepticons. I am a Decepticon," And gestures to the insignia for his virus-addled processor, "And I got my info from a reliable source that wasn't listening in through the Council Chamber doors." She says loud enough to draw a few more Autobots over to the decent-sized crowd.

"I was in that meeting," Sentinel fumes, his vox cracking slightly. Popping a hip rotor to one side she shakes her helm at him. He had completely missed the point she was making, not that was anything new, "And so what if the meaning gets mixed up a bit, probably would have anyway. That’s what happens. And it's not the first time Optimus has gotten himself into trouble because he knew too much." He dismisses. 

In a nanoklik she is in his space, snarling, but so only Sentinel could hear, "Do you even care that he could've been raped?"

His whole frame flinches and the briefest expression of guilt flickering through his field before he's turning away again.

"Well you said he wasn't," Sentinel says sternly before saying louder to the crowd at large, "So are you lying to me Decepticon?"

Everyone's optics lock on her with distrust and Sentinel glances back at her for a moment and she can see he looks disgusting smug with himself and realizes he knew what he had done and didn't care.

_He fragging knew and still open his big motormouth!_

"How did I never see the scared stupid little slag-spitter that you are?"

"Excuse me?!"

"You heard me, you self-center limp glitchhead."

'Oh's' echo throughout the crowd and Sentinel's jaw drops before he's glaring right back at her, stepping forward and trying to use his height to intimidate her. As if she hadn’t spent the past thousand stellar cycles around large warframes.

"You know if this is what you were always like I'm glad we left you and your stuck-up smug attitude." He says through gritted dentae.

"Takes one to know one afthelm."

"You just admitted you're one too!"

"Yeah, well at least I don't act like something I’m clearly not. Your righteous act will only fool so many dumb mechas to follow you before they see right through you."

His optics narrow to slivers of ice as he growls, "I think you were on the wrong side to begin with. You and that bit of —"

Before Sentinel can finish that sentence and she can stab him somewhere fatal everything comes to a halt as a screeching whine comes overhelm. Knowing the noise well Blackarachnia jumps back as Slipstream lands directly in front of Sentinel. Taking her time to stand she makes a show of her height, eclipsing and overshadowing the Prime. Smirking at her untended back-up, Blackarachnia strolls over to stand next to her and can already see that she was pissed.

"I've heard your ludicrous babble and this 'winged bitch', as you call me, wishes to have your erroneous statements made clear." 

Sentinel struggles to speak, his mouth opening and closing, before he screams something that comes out as a burst of static, vox resetting at the crack in his voice.

"Is it true you have been saying that your Magnus gave our Lord Megatron an easy and dysfunctional bot to plead for our help and cement our treaty with?" She asks in a clipped tone, her normal high pitched rasp mostly flat.

Grinning at the wording Blackarachnia watches expectantly as Sentinel processes and realizes that if he tells the truth and say 'yes', if only to look better, it would be a double-edge sword and they both knew it. Especially if it got back to both leaders, his career - and possibly his life - would be over. 

"No. Optimus... Optimus did very well at the Academy," Sentinel struggles to says, as if complimenting someone was torture, "Spent most of his time in the Hall of Records studying away."

"And kicking your aft in practical spars and scrimmages." She adds grinning as he glares back as if he just eaten some stale energon snacks.

"So you know that’s your words that he was shareware are not correct." Slipstream's sharp tone are like a slap, but its the slur that has Blackarachnia's attention.

"What?" She hisses, clenching her fists ready to deck him and only stopping when Slipstream rests a servo on her shoulder.

As his optics dart between the enraged femmes the Prime takes a step back to just be out of reach and lifts his stupid chin high, refusing to back down. 

"Well it's how you see it, and it could be said that —"

"Did you or did you not say it?" Slipstream asks again, voice devoid of shrillness or hostility.

"...Yes," Is whispered out the side of his mouth, "But —"

"Before spreading allegations someone must have told you the correct information and yet you still slandered it," Her frigid voice sends ripples of discomfort not only through Sentinel, but the crowd as well, "And if you slander the Token you slander our Lord Megatron’s dignity. In doing so you state that your own Magnus is not only an unfit leader in judgement, but not an upholder of loyalty. I don’t believe either will take kindly to your discourteous words."

Just like Starscream, Slipstream had a way with words, but hers felt more sincere, deadly, then the sludge he hustled when he gloated about what he intended to do. 

" ... Um."

Slipstream whips her helm around to the voice while Blackarachnia slowly leans around to see an Autobot standing alone as his fellow mechas-in-arms had backed away a considerable distance. Looking around he very frighteningly raises his servo even though he had all of Slipstream's terrifying glower on him and Blackarachnia chuckles at the pathetic sight.

"Wh-What... Um...What is Optimus Prime supposed to be doing?" Their vox cracks as they ask they're question.

"As your Magnus asked," Slipstream starts and that statement seems to get everyone's attention again, "He is to be the liaison to our liege. Lord Megatron has requested his help with the creation of strategies that will topple the advancement of the Qidriedian scourge. He has come with the most ingenious plans including this one. You should not believe everything you hear," She says softly before looking back to Sentinel and saying lowly, "You just might be deceived. "

While some look unconvinced, most look to Sentinel with disbelief and disappointed expressions, already starting to whisper among themselves. And Sentinel — He was livid. Grinding his dentae and faceplates flushed Blackarachnia knows that Sentinel is wise to what Slipstream just pulled. Optimus had read the manifesto to her and Sentinel gushing over how short, but complex the work was when he got his servos on an underacted version.

_Great to know he's still stuck with those memories too. Let them haunt him. _

"Now that this has been cleared up I can get back to more important things than dispelling Autobot rumors. Come along Arachnia, we have places to be." And turning away the crowd splits for them and walking off Blackarachnia blows a kiss and grins as the group quakes in fear.

_Damn, sometimes it was great to be me. _

It was an arduous and gory two decacycles and a half of gridlock fighting with the Autobot and Decepticon forces making the call to retreat multiple times before losing or injuring too many of their soldiers. They weren’t here for a Pyrrhic victory, they were here to secure this part of the planet, but not at more than it was worth. The only victory then was that was the Qidrieds had to do the same. But they pushed and made the necessary sacrifices to kept the cost of life low and finally they had taken the western stretch. With this final forward attack they would secure the Quartzite Pillars and surrounding plateaus. Now they only needed this one chance and they were going to take it, by dispersing the bioweapon.

As others mobilized around him Optimus remains laser focused on checking the ring of canisters once again like Wheeljack showed him how. He could never be too sure when they all contained a metric ton of gas. Glancing up he make sure the twins were watching before going over their mission again.

"Okay, remember that you need to reach 160 mechanometers before activating the anti-grav and pressing the blue button to set the timer," And begins passing the rings over for them to hide in their subspace, "The fog is thickest there and will mix with the droplets easier."

"Yes sir!"

"Don't forget to comm. when you've set one up so we can track your progress and distract the Qidrieds with the bulk of the ground forces."

"Yes sir!"

"Once you finish setting up all twenty-seven in the planned crescent shape rendezvous with the first Trine or Flyer flock you come across," Pausing, Optimus has to realign two canisters before handing it over to Jetstorm, "Any problems before that you radio and fall back behind the line, or if he is closer, to Omega Supreme."

"Yes sir! We are knowing plan." Jetfire says with a dazzling smile. 

Nodding along, Jetstorm emulates his grin, "We go over plan many times yesterday."

"We best Autobots in the sky so no worry."

"Only ones in sky."

"Hm!"

"Don’t go showing off again and I'll be less worried." He says giving them a pointed look.

They at least have the decency to look mildly ashamed about the stunt they pulled two solar cycles ago and because of it he wasn’t immune to their dejected looks.

"As long as you follow the plan you’ll be fine. Alright?" And handing over the last of the small hover devices Optimus smiles at them as he walks them out of the freighter that was operating as a science bay, "You’ve got this. Good luck."

And their smiles come back in full force as their fields bubble over in appreciation. They fall into a salute and with a quick 'Yes sir, Optimus Prime sir' they both grab an arm to hug before flying off, leaving Optimus lightly stunned and a little happy at their reaction.

"I think if you bothered them anymore they would be saying 'Yes Carrier'."

Closing his optics, Optimus vents lowly and tells himself he wouldn't turn around or rise to the bait.

"Don't you have an army to lead?"

_Well that didn't last long._

"All in due time."

"And have them wait to fawn over another one of your _epic_ victories."

Megatron’s deep and unfairly soothing chuckle was closer than he was expecting as he purrs against his audial, "So sensitive."

The sharp angle at the end of his helm catches his fin and the sharp contrast of sensation surges over his systems pleasantly. As it passes Optimus bristles, his playing flaring. Even if he didn’t know to what Megatron was referring he was equally upset about both meanings. Mustering his best glare he scowls at Megatron's arrogant faceplates and turns on the tip of his pedes and walks away, too tired and annoyed with Megatron's lack of manners on personal space.

_I have sensitive audials too Slipstream._

He had overheard the confrontation between her and Sentinel and it had sat with him throughout. And with Megatron's actions it was trying to take precedence over his thoughts, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. No one did. He had to remain focused or their progress could suffer because he had his own mission to accomplish.

With the Qidrieds' adaptation to the fog and mist being an enlarged bump that was found during a recent postmortem autopsy by Blackarachnia, they knew their enemy depended part of their sight on echolocation while they had been using infrared. While the twins covered the low canopy with the canisters he and five other bots were tasked with making it across enemy lines and setting bombs to topple certain formations in planned direction to temporarily block and confuse the Qidrieds.

Sneaking his way over enemy lines he gets to his location and comms the others about his beginning ascent and gets confirmations in return. Mere cycles later he can hear the roaring battle cry of the Decepticons and he knows he's pressed for time. Thankfully, climbing is the hardest part of this mission because in no time at all Optimus is placing his last three bombs on the wide ledge of his pillar and looking up the formation, his visor informing him that all the bombs were activated and counting down.

Placing his servo to his comm. he calls in, "Optimus Prime. All ten bombs sets," And raises his right arm up to the overhang to grapple and repeal down, "Beginning descent — What?"

A blob of silver had latched onto his arm and was attempting to buckle the armor and trying to get it off he sees something in his peripheral. Turning Optimus sees a Qidried in heavy grey armor and some markings sailing towards him. He could tell they were higher rank, but thankfully not higher than the Thyous as they only had one color.

Pulling at the blob again it grows and wraps around his other wrist joint forming a solid mass like offlined stasis cuffs. He has no time to dwell on it before the Qidried lands and draws a dagger, running at him with a battle cry. With limited space Optimus can only dodge for so long or bring his arms up to swing at the towering alien, but they catch his arms in mid-swing and his left side explodes in pain. 

And as the dagger is pulled out it moves out at the wrong angle, scraping inside and out of the wound before it's plunged in a second time in a different direction. As Optimus cries out his HUD spits a stream of code so fast he couldn't read or recognizes it, but it doesn't matter as he's stabbed again and again. He tries twisting away, every movement full of fear and desperation while a tightness burns around his optics and his processor rings like he had just slammed into a building. But his captor doesn't care. They laugh at his struggles, a sinister grin plastered across they're pale blue face. As they raise their arm for a fifth strike a pressure like the worst of his processor-aches overtakes him. But it feels less like pain and more like the hard press of intention, a need to survive. And it pushes him do something he had never done before.

Battlemask sliding open with a snap Optimus leverages the hold the Qidried has on him and heaves himself up, biting down on the alien's unprotected neck and sinking his sharpen dentae into the soft flesh as the dagger slides into him again.

The howl of pain was guttural and Optimus lets go only to take a bigger bite and double the force as a sadistic sense of glee electrifies his processor at causing the other pain for his own. Now they both had bleeding injuries. 

His arms are dropped as the Qidried raises a hand to stop the bleeding and seeing his opening Optimus swings his arms up to knock the other in the face. Freed, Optimus kicks out and drops them down to his level, but he isn't quick enough in his next attack and the Qidried surges up punching him.

Everything is ringing as he staggering away, faintly realizing that it was from a crushed audial. But focused on that and the building pressure again Optimus doesn't even notice that in the quick brawl the Qidried had reclaimed his weapon back. As the pressure mounts and crests again everything else is a whisper of white noise as Optimus glowers at his opponent as they run towards him. And snarling back Optimus is more than ready and burning to fight.

To conquer.

To destroy!

_To what?!_

Like a cold snap Optimus is seeing through the harsh and oppressive thoughts, completely horrified with himself. He was an Autobot, not a cold-sparked Decepticon. He sounded more like a Triple Changer and their rapid changes then himself.

But halting his confusing thoughts gives the charging Qidried an opening and they wrestling him down. Optimus grapple with them, but the pain in his side is too much for close combat and he kicks out, pushing them back before rolling painfully to his right side. Stands up he is instantly slammed into the rock wall behind him and Optimus gets in only one punch before the Decepticon-sized Qidried changes his weapon into a spear and mounts him to the pillar behind him. The protocols his frame threw into action after the first stab wound become slow to shut off all the pain as he's pin to the wall, pierced through his waist next to his earlier stab wounds, jostling the dagger still embed in him.

Now Optimus is full of nothing but agony and fury.

Quickly ripping the dagger out of his side he digs it through a thin gap where the Qidried's armor comes together at the elbow. They make a grab for the dagger and Optimus lets them take it as he tears the piece of armor he was after off. Momentarily distracted by that, Optimus pushes off the rock wall and slides his frame up the spear swiping out with the piece of armor to catch the Qidried in the face, getting two of their eyes. As they duck down in pain Optimus lunges forward and drags the solider to him and bites the alien on their unprotected arm, dentae going through the brittle polymer under the alloy armor.

"You revolting droid!" They screams and stumbles back holding their arm, squealing as Optimus spits the blood in his mouth back at its owner.

Wasting no time Optimus gets a good grip on the spear and rips it from his waist, throwing it down the side of the pillar where it disappear into the mist.

_ ** BOOM! ..... BOOM! ..... BOOM! ..... ** _ _ **BOOM! .....** _ ** _BOOM!_ **

Spinning around towards the east Optimus can just make out the forms of the pillars crumbling.

_The bombs! I've been here too long._

_ **SWOOSH!** _

The dagger embeds itself mere centimetres from him, but looking back at the Qidried the blast goes off behind them. For a nanoklik everything is moving too slow before the pressure is back and Optimus does the only thing he can think of to survive. Firing his grapples at the Qidried he drags them towards him as the blast throws them both off the formation with Optimus hiding fully behind the larger alien.

They quickly change and adapt enough for him to be safe, but a lack of Energon slows Optimus' movements and he's helpless when the Qidried cuts him loose and sails on sturdy wings to the closest pillar.

As he falls Optimus thinks he sees something falling towards him as well, but he's more focused on the horrifying actions he took with pulling another living being in front of him to protect himself.

Then it all goes dark.

"Do you need anything else Ratchet?"

Hunching a bit more over Optimus' left wrist Ratchet just shakes his helm, hoping his move hid some of the exposed circuity that was giving off a different signal than it should. It only had a 34% reading, but it was better to safe than sorry. He can see some movement and then First Aid's shadow is gone and Ratchet can relax somewhat. Finishing the rewiring he works on undenting the armor around it so it wouldn't pinch or heal caved in. Taking a moment to clean his servos off again before starting on the next section of Optimus' arm he catches sight of the twins and on closer inspection, Sari as well.

Someone had pulled some crates from somewhere and the two were using each other to prop themselves up and were soundly recharging in the corner. Sari had also fallen asleep in Jetfire's gently curled servos and seeing them all safe and sleeping when they could comforts Ratchet enough to go back to work. He could only hope it was a peaceful rest.

Just remembering the fear on Safeguard's faceplates, but the raging anger as they handed off Optimus had Ratchet pausing in his work.

It was an awful sight, worse than when Optimus met his end at the servos of Starscream. With that all the injuries were internal, but this time Optimus was bleeding out in his arms. They were in the middle of a battle and even if it was on the verge of ending it could still be a few megacycle more so all Ratchet could do at the moment was cap the bleeding, hook up an IV reserve, and clean the damaged areas so Optimus wouldn't have an infection on top of healing from a future surgery.

But where Ratchet had to clean was shocking because it was around and in Optimus' mouth.

Whoever he fought actually pushed the Prime to fight for survival and that settled something awful in Ratchet's fuel pumps just thinking about that _savage _programming kicking in. And it doesn't get any better when he plugged into Optimus' medical port and can see that analgesic coding was running without a medic's activator, something no production Autobot could do. Ignoring those facts Ratchet placed Prime into stasis lock and latched him to the berth and hoped they didn’t take too many hits.

But he didn't need to worry about that. In his absence the twins, Sari, and Omega were taking care of the army.

Coming back to the control center Sari had plugged into Omega's systems and was glowing a bright AllSpark blue as was the rest of the room with the outlines of circuity pulsing with energy. And Omega was charging forward, kicking tanks and swatting at anything blue. And looking out Ratchet could see Safeguard causing as much havoc for the Qidrieds as they tore through a section of the aliens' flightcrafts formation, their Seeker programming coming out in full power. And when Ratchet got a chance to run diagnostics on Omega after the surgery he found Omega's maneuverability had been elevated 5% higher than his usual capabilities. 

It was only because of the four's anger fueled fear that they not only pushed the Qidrieds into retreat, but it allowed Ratchet to fall back and get Optimus to surgery before anything fell out his side. Thankfully and luckily the surgery went well and all that was left was a ghastly set of welds that could be buffed out in a few decacycles, but overall there should be no lasting damaged to Optimus' frame as long as he rested.

_Hmm, what a novel thought._

Chuckling to himself about that Ratchet does another check over the right audial and the corner of his dermas quirks up at the dormant reading as self-repair kept nanite activity at it's current production. At this pace it would be operable in two solar cycles. Turning back to his delicate work around the dented armor Ratchet continues to replace wires and check the integrity of the plating when a round of soft gasps pulls him from his work. Snapping his helm up he's ready to chew out whoever is causing this raucous only for him to sees who it is and then he's annoyed for a whole new reason.

"What are you doing here?"

While the femme Seeker looks insulted Megatron takes a step closer to the medberth with a predatory grin, "I'm here to collect _my_ Prime."

"Yours?!"

"Nooo..." Wheeljack's low drawn out 'no' sets Ratchet off because even if he doesn't know who he's directing it at the possibility that it was for him has Ratchet angry.

"Not now Wheeljack! And Optimus' isn't going anywhere until he’s awake and I give him a clean bill of health," Ratchet whispers harshly, "And on top of that he shouldn’t be going back with you where you can get him hurt again."

His accusation causes a series of very quiet gasp and hisses from the medics around him, all of who have taken defense stances in front of their stasis patients.

"I wasn’t aware that actions by our common enemy were my fault," Megatron's grin gains a dangerous edge, "I would never actively injure a possession of mine, medic. You had better watch what you say." 

"He’s _not_ yours." Ratchet stresses waving his pliers at the Decepticon.

"I believe that is a topic you should take up with your leader and your Magnus." He says with an infuriatingly dastardly grin. Then he has the audacity to place his servo down next to Optimus' uninjured side like a worried Endura would.

"Oh I already know," Ratchet seethes. He was surprised he hadn't blown a gasket, or twelve, when Optimus explained his situation, "And Magnus will be getting a piece of my processor when I get close enough to Cybertron, but right now he isn’t here —"

"No. But I am."

And there was Sentinel slagging Prime standing in the entrance way in all his barely scuffed glory accompanied by two guards. Holding his arms behind his back he strolls in as he looks down at everyone with a superior little smirk before sparing a brief disappointing look for the twins. For a moment Ratchet is worried that he’ll wake them up, but he leaves them be so he can flex his ranking.

"As of now and per their agreement Optimus belongs to Megatron," And his smirk comes back into full force, "Attempting to denying that would put a strain in their agreement. We can’t have one bot ruining the progress made so far." He says with finality and draws a scoff from the Seeker as she rolls her optics and turns away.

"That's not what I'm doing. I’m his team medic or have you forgotten. I'm allowed to work on him and the kid is going to stay here with me until —"

"I know what the datawork says. I filed it," Sentinel cuts him off with a fake pacifying tone, "But it doesn’t stop the matter that Optimus is apart of the Decepticons in a way and they are leaving for the northern deserts of the planet now."

"Then I’ll just go —"

"You can’t. You’re being sent to the other side of the planet and then to the growing defense at Cybertron." 

Frigidness is suddenly gnawing at all his synapses and circuits, halting Ratchet in his tracks and cooling his red hot anger into terrifying despair.

"...What?"

"Those are your orders from _Autobot_ High Command, Medical Field Tech Ratchet. You have to obey." Sentinel shrugs uncaring, his smugness on full display.

_... No... No! No, this can’t be happening. They can’t take another bot away - It's always orders! I'm always trying to be a good bot and they kept taking them away from me —_

"What do you think Optimus would say if he saw what you were doing?" He asks arrogantly.

_He would try to be a mediator and half follow your rules. ... But ultimately he would do what's best for everyone, but himself._

But Ratchet pauses too long that Sentinel thinks he's got him.

"That's what I thought. Finish what you’re working on and allow Lord Megatron here to take back what’s his." Looking beyond thrilled at what he said. Then turning about-face takes a wide path around the glaring Seeker to walk out of the tent.

Looking down defeated and outclasses Ratchet knows he has to, but can't and he doesn't realize his servos are shaking until a heavy weight is placed on them. With a start, he looks up and sees Wheeljack with an understanding expression and holding out a servo for the tools.

"Ratchet. I’ll help."

He finds enough energy to nod and they finish the last of the work in a few cycles. When he's done he's barely taken his servos away to clean them when Megatron scoops Optimus up and away from him, walking out triumphantly. He cradles the younger bot with a gentleness that sickens the medic as he had seen what those same servos have done to Optimus before. Servos cleaned, he updates the datapad and passes the medical chart over to the Seeker who stares at him a nanoklik longer than he would have liked before taking the datapad and saying lowly,

"He will be in fine care." Before turning on heel leaving as well.

_Is that supposed to make me feel better? I want know. I need to be there!_

Needed to see how they would treat him and make sure that Megatron didn't find out _— Maybe I can bargain with Megatron_. It's a desperate line of thought, but its a chance he has to take. But he only gets a few mechamoters from the tent and sees Megatron handing Optimus off to the Seeker who continues to the nearby Decepticon transport with Megatron turning back to Sentinel fragging _fucking_ Prime.

"I think you can see that I am very capable of doing my job."

"When it suits your interest," Megatron rumbles, seeing right through him, "And since we’re being so candid, what do you want out of this?"

Grinning, taking great joy in contemplating the idea of the Leader of the Decepticons owing him, "Don’t know yet. But it will be small, so don’t worry. I do know the value of a working relationship." Sentinel says haughtily.

With a dubious look Megatron turns away, "We’ll see."

_He was making deals with the enemy! _

The wrench is making contact with the back of Sentinel's helm before Ratchet realizes he's let it loose.

"What the —! Medic?!" He shouts as he turns around to glare at him, "Did you just hit me?! I can have you court-martial and —"

"And what!" Ratchet shouts back as he stomps towards the young fool that just gave Optimus up without a fight, actually gladly gave him up, "What do you really think the Council's gonna do to _me_?! You should be happy all I threw at you was a wrench!"

"I have witne—"

"No you don't!" Ratchet snaps and the Prime steps back as Ratchet swing his arm around to the sparse space of the Autobot encampment, "No one saw and I wouldn’t count on the medics. They don’t take kindly to having patients moved."

And looking back as the Prime looks over him they see a group of medics standing at the entrance of the tent and scowling at Sentinel with ice cold optics. They may be smaller and slight, but as a group they could dismantle a bot in 3 cycles flat just like that carnivorous group of fish Prowl showed the team once.

"Probably shouldn't seek medical help right now either if you know what’s good for you." Ratchet warns.

And the thanks he gets is the Prime clicking his glossa at him like a disobedient sparkling. Not hesitating for a nanoklik Ratchet raises another wrench out of subspace intent on smacking some sense into that hardaft helm of his.

"Okay! Okay fine," Sentinel cowers just a bit and backs up, "Just go wake up those two lazy bolts and send them to the ship. Double time. And I _might_ not write you up." He sneers.

As he walks away Ratchet looks to the sky for any sign of the Decepticon transport, but it's sharp and dark shape is already gone. The wrench falls from his servo and he sags to the ground, his legstructs not able to support his grief.

_I... I lost another one ..._

The warm pair of scuffed up servos on his shoulders are in no way a comfort but he was too tired to move them. Though when they help him stand he is grateful for that. 

"Come on. You’ve done enough. There’s a warm cup of mercury with your designation on it." Wheeljack says lowly as he guides him back to the medical tent.

But he hadn't done enough. If he had Optimus would be recovering here, but he wasn't and now... now Ratchet didn’t know if he could face those younglings when he told them what happened. They were very emotional over goodbyes... and so was he.

While the battles on Regloun IV had finished rather quickly the battles in between the planets of Regloun were much more difficult as the Qidrieds had learned from their lost in the Vespa System.

His forces from Deneb, along with the Autobots, joined the fight as the combined forces had pushed the Qidrieds they were fighting into the Regloun system. This led to a small portion of his soldiers from the Floron System to returned as well as they were gaining ground in the system and had bots to spare.

Reading the newest report on this conflict Megatron realizes that with his processor on this continuing space battle he was not fully aware of the larger planet-hoping situation. Destroying the Qidried Fleet here and fighting with the Grand Thyous when they appeared had become his main focus. Which it should be after the Thyous slammed a small transport they were piloting into him. Grimacing and rolling the joint that was recently pushed back into alignment after that lucky hit Megatron pings security and is told where the Little Prime is currently at. With his injuries Optimus was regulated to desk duty and would be the most up-to-date on the larger war effort.

Hook had explained Optimus was supremely lucky that the spear didn't pierce his smelter tank or it could have melted other components and had irreversible damage. With the welds setting and the lack of armor over the injury he was to be kept from intense movement for two decacycles at least. An then wait another two more before he was free to buff out the welds, have plating replaced, and then he was allowed to move around more freely. After that Hook said they would need an Autobot medic to give the all clear for Optimus to go back into combat as civilian frames were not his specialty. 

With the office in sight Megatron's dermas quirk up a centimetre. He had gifted the Little Prime the room before the war council as it was the perfect size for his shorter soldiers and now its current occupant. Optimus had been delighted by it, even showering him with another awkward ‘thank you’ later in the solar cycle, unknowing of it's true purpose. But in the meantime with this central locale to do his work Megatron was able to see how much lenience he was giving to his Token. If his cruiser and five other ships were working smoothly before they had reached a higher percentage now. Through a combination of fear for himself and having Optimus fierce disappointment in them had his Decepticons shaping up quite nicely.

Stepping into the office he has to shutter his optics as the faint lights of the room come on. Confused to why that would occur when someone was in the room he soon finds his answer slumped over the desk, arms pillowing his helm as the light from Regloun III's moons illuminate him through the wide window expanse. Megatron had though it was a nice touch since the unknowns of space perfectly exemplify the mystery that was Optimus Prime.

Walking over, Megatron sees the Prime was completely lost to the universe and knows he won't be getting any updates until the next solar cycle. Bending down, Megatron leans the chair back as the Little Prime's frame would not benefit from such a position while in repair. As gently as he could he takes hold of the Autobot’s shoulderstructs and leans him back in the chair. Standing, he sees some of the items he knows Optimus' team had brought him to make him more comfortable. Since they had returned with the other forces they had been like worried creators and doing anything assign to them in half the time to make sure Optimus didn't attempt to go anywhere that wasn't the medbay, his quarters, or his office.

There were two small half drank blue med-grade Energon cubes sitting next to a glass of assorted low iron-dusted energon and lithium chews treats - having sample one to be sure - somehow scrunched up by his team, and a thermal blanket. Taking the blanket Megatron cradles and lifts Optimus’ helm to place the folded blanket under it like a pillow. The Autobot barely moves except the faint flickering of his optics as Megatron arranges the desk back into some working order, but his ventilation never changes. 

_ Sleep well, Little Prime._

Smiling slightly at the sight Megatron begins to leave, but feels prompted to look back. He finds himself gazing at Optimus unabashedly as the ship breaks orbit and the two other moons reflect more light into the room and across the sleeping Prime. The scene slowly strikes Megatron and seeing Optimus expressionless and motionless seemed wrong, uncomfortable. The thought of that vivid mech monotonously complying to every command seemed less useful than he had first visualized.

Closing his optics against these roaming thoughts Megatron sees himself out quietly, knowing that something in that moment had change.

But towards what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOT TAKES ;)  
\- Officially everyone's upset, no one's happy.  
\- I’ve hurt me baby boi !!! (⋟﹏⋞) _but_ Optimus has officially reached feral status and that's great  
\- And what's this? Megatron rethinking his plan???  
\- Slipstream 'I don't tolerate stupidity' is a queen and I love her! She would totally be one to take Starscream’s place as lead Seeker (not second though, that’s Strika now). She has the brains and I like to imagine she immediately challenged whoever should have been the new leader and won in a landslide ;)  
\- I love Seekers with sharp nails and all the artwork with claws is so stylish 😎 Also the tendency to preen and be tactile is based on the thousand of fics I've read with flyers and seekers being tactile to clean wings and because they're divas and like to take up space by leaning across it.  
\- Sentinel is bitter and angry and can’t (won’t) process his problems and now he’s got enemies. Watch out! The medics are out for blood!


	13. (“Opposites”);

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! And Surprise! Ya'll get a bonus chapter!  
An explanation is in the next chapter because we need to get this story going (≧▽≦)/

"Alright, I can dig it. Comm. me when you guys get settled, okay?" Jazz says.

He can hear the rumbling of the ship landing from Prowl's side of the broadcast and knows he doesn’t have long.

Nodding, Prowl smirks, "If I'm not handling a crisis I will do so promptly."

Chuckling, Jazz agrees. If anyone was going to handle the youngest of their ragtag team it would be Prowl.

"True. True," And sending him off with one more smile he says softly, "We'll talk later Prowl. Bye and good luck."

"Goodbye Jazz. And thank you."

And for a brief moment Jazz sees that wonderful little smile before the communications are cut. Beaming at the comm. unit a little longer Jazz has to shake his helm at how pede over helm he was for the other cyber-ninja. With a half-sparked sigh he taps out a short beat on the desk before pushing away from the console.

He had a meeting to get to.

He tries to think about that and not the goodwill mission Prowl and the young bots were on now. But it was difficult because it was a mess – to put it mildly – in the Dominus System. Ultra Magnus wanted to have a show of Autobots working well with Decepticons for that system's armies until reinforcements arrived. Reinforcements that had fought well along side the Cons. But four Autobots weren’t doing more than haphazardly smacking a med patch on top of an open and fried circuit, yet it had to be something instead of nothing.

If possible, everyone would have gone, but no one was willing to leave Optimus alone.

Jazz had been picked to stay and was grateful to that for two reasons. The first, was for Optimus' well-being. That's why he's glad to be having this meeting with the younger bot because he may seem fine, but Jazz is sure Optimus is hiding some serious mental stress and physical pain.

In their latest battle the Command Deck took a heavy hit. Optimus had been present and not only cut up his left leg, but also reopened his already nasty wound that had been on the mend for the past two decacycles. Not only that, but since the start of this conflict he hadn’t been allowed to leave for any other ships, expressly not Autobot ships. Meanwhile, Optimus made sure they rotated through, but none of them stayed long before they were running back to make sure Prime was still in one piece. With his recent injury they had been determined to stay close to keep an extra optic on him.

And they weren't the only ones.

Some of the Cons had warmed up to Optimus' presence and Jazz knew the Triple Changers definitely had with how often they checked in with him. Optimus was one of those one-in-a-million bots that you just wanted to be safe while also being so inspired by what he stood for. No one wanted that to be diminished.

But with how close he had to stay to Megatron, with all his condense malice, it was bound to have anyone rethinking their stance in the universe — If being referred to as prize didn't already cause problems. Optimus had to be shouldering so much with the war, the treaty, the team, and dealing with big bads on a regular basis. 

And talking about big bads — Shockwave, the other reason he was happy to stay as someone had to look out for Blurr.

The cyclops had been attempting to be ... Jazz is going to use the placeholder glyph of 'nicer', but really it was 'less creepy'.

Take his actions when he was meeting the returning battalion from Floron. He stood a considerable distance away from Blurr and the minis in his least threatening manner, which wasn’t much, and said that it was "good to see you well Blurr" before stalking away, leaving everyone speechless. That is until they were attacked in the next moment and getting through that battle became priority.

Since then Shockwave had stopped closing off corridors and had made his presence more noticeable, which was unnerving that he was so good at hiding it before. But it was apparently helping rebuild some sense of normalcy between the two as Blurr’s optics constantly strayed to Shockwave with tiny fond smiles and looks of nostalgia. Though the moment he catches himself Blurr's expression would drop and his field would becomes hollow before he quickly flees the scene.

Their responses were professional, but there was an airiness to them that spoke of a comfortableness that couldn't be formed in a few meetings. Like how when the two would talk there were half-smiles from Blurr and Shockwave's antlers would twitch back and forth a few centimeters. 

Blurr was getting lost in the past and Shockwave hadn't let it go.

Shockwave was forever watching Blurr and Jazz had caught on infrared how warm the Con had gotten when Blurr would look his way or walk by. And damn did he wish he could unsee how fast Shockwave's temperature spiked. But regardless of the Con's baser functions, Jazz can see that Shockwave was trying. It was in his own weird way and with Blurr still harboring feelings for what Shockwave was, even though it was clearly hurting them both, they continued this dance. These short moments instead of settling whatever it was between them was bound to break if someone wasn't honest soon.

Jazz had seen enough and Blurr needed to know.

Turning down another corner and walking around the Decepticon traffic he sees Blurr walking from the opposite direction. Waving hello, Blurr weaves in and around the other Cons to close the distance and then walks with him to the elevator he passed. Once the lift starts going up Jazz listens for the tap-tap of Blurr's pede before speaking up.

"So what do you think the meetin' will be about?"

"I'm-not-sure. But-I-believe-the-probability-of-the-topic-will-be-productivity-and-our-longer-stint-with-the-Decepticon-Intelligence."

"So this meetin' gonna to be about Shockwave."

Blurr doesn't react at all, like the excellent intelligence agent he is, but his silence is telling enough. Pushing off the wall to stand in front of him Jazz sees Blurr's dermas thin more as he tries to keep optic contact.

"Well I think we need to talk about him ahead of time because your starry optics for that titanium deer are kinda blindin'."

The sound Blurr produces is akin to squealing tires.

"I-I-I-I-!"

" 'I' isn’t a sentence Blurr." He says lightly.

Cringing, Blurr turns away, "Is... Is it that noticeable?"

"Super noticeable my mech," Placing a comforting servo on his arm, "You look like one of those wistful bot in those romantic holo-vids."

Groaning, Blurr slaps his servos over his face and the groan becomes a whine. With a gentle pat Jazz takes a step back to give the mech some much needed space. 

"Each to their own, though beside the smarts, why’s he such a sparkthrob? I don't really see the appeal." He was curious about why Blurr was letting this happen.

Peaking out from behind his digits, Blurr assess him before asking quietly, "You-won’t-laugh?”

Shaking his helm 'no' Blurr drops his servos, but keeps his focus firmly on the floor.

“Fine. For-some-reason-he.... he's-still-very-attractive-in-my-optics. He-looks-good-in-purple. And-just... still sounds nice. Like strangely gentle and soothing," He mumbles at the end.

Nodding understandingly, Jazz flashes his subordinate a sideways smirk, "Ahh... Its the vox that does it for you."

Another tire squeak erupts from Blurr as his faceplates take on a darker hue, "Stop-stop-stop-stopstopstopstopstop_stopstopstop!_"

A short chuckle escapes Jazz before he can stop it and he has to hold his servos out at the offended frown he gets.

“Hey now! I didn’t laugh until now."

"I-don't-tease-you-about-Prowl."

"I'd take it in stride my mech."

"You-would," Blurr pouts, folding his arms, "And-then-I-would-have-to-listen-again-about-how-he's-the-hottest-thing-this-side-of-the-Takara-globular-cluster."

Shrugging nonchalantly, he leans back against the wall, "You know it. Ain't gonna deny being in love. Makes my spark sing."

Blurr shakes his helm, smiling good-naturedly, rolling his optics as the lift comes to a stop. They open to an empty hall and stepping out Jazz's smile slips off his dermas.

"Blurr, I understand why you haven't done anything and I don't expect you to after he lied to you. Actually, I really didn't think you would do anything at all."

The speedster's mood sours as he turns away, his expression looking similarly hollowed like the solar cycle he came on-board.

"I-guess ... It's... Sometimes-I-feel... I feel like if he actually hurt me... It would make it easier to let go of these feelings... Then it could be valid," Blurr says slowly as his arms come around to hold himself, his frame shaking, "To not let him back in." His whispers, glyphs catching in his throat. 

Jazz is there in an instant pulling Blurr in a hug, trying to be his armor against something unseen and felt too deeply as his field jumps about in a frightening matter. 

"Hey. Hey. It's gonna be okay. I'm here for you," He says soothing a servo down Blurr's back as his engine begins to hiccup, "Blurr. Pain is pain, in any form. One doesn't always outweigh the other, okay. You don't owe him a second chance unless you want to. Only you decide that."

He feels Blurr nod against his shoulder, but Jazz can still feel the hesitancy in his field. They stay like that for a couple of cycles until Blurr in-vents deeply and takes a step back.

"We'll-be-late." He whispers, not raising his helm to address Jazz.

"Alright," Jazz says equally soft, knowing he's gotten as far as he could right now, "Lets go get this briefing going."

And his light smile gets the return of the barest hints of one from Blurr.

"Are you sure sure?" Sari asks again as she gets closer to the screen making her head overly big as she tries to get a better vantage point to see his healing side.

"I promise Sari," Optimus smiles at her still childish but caring nature, "And I am taking all the right measures to heal faster too," He adds when he spies Ratchet's judgmental glare bhind Sari's pigtails.

Tilting the holo-screen down and moving just enough to show them, Optimus is happy to say that while he did have new welding marks from the attack eight days ago it was healing very well. The metal and glass shrapnel didn't lodge in his side and leg too deeply and they were spaced out instead of causing direct damage to one spot. But seeing them both relax at seeing it has Optimus feeling guilty for making them worry in the first place.

He couldn't imagine how awful it was for them to see him that injured again followed by neither of them being able to see him get up or recover. It was concerning enough for him when Optimus woke up with two green and purple Decepticons standing over him expressionless instead of Ratchet's usual disgruntle frown. The whole situation makes his tanks drop and settle weirdly again as he remembers Sari crying when he was finally well enough to sit up and call them about his condition. 

Leaning back Sari nods to herself looking relived, "Okay, I'll believe you. For now. Its just —," And a yawns interrupts her, but she still tries to talk through it, which was much easier to do in English than Neocybex, "— Optimus."

"I'll take your word for it." He says lightly, smiling when she pouts at him.

"Alright. It's time for a little troublemaker to recharge." Ratchet grumbles.

"No way! I'm a trooper. I can stay —," But another yawn ruins her denial.

"Right," Ratchet raises an optic ridge and raises a servo to stop Sari from speaking, "If you're not rested you don't get to use the power tools."

"What! But! Fine!" Sari fumes as she turns her back to their medic, "I'll go to my shoebox, but I won't like it."

It was really a cleaned out crate that that Bulkhead and Professor Sumdac had pristinely engineered into a small room with a bed and tiny amenities, but Sari had taken to calling it a shoebox for some reason and they had all gone along with it.

"I really don't care." Ratchet says as he points to the hall.

Sticking her tongue out she turns a tired smile his way, "Night Optimus."

"Good night Sari." 

He's able to see Sari fly towards the door before Ratchet steps forward to take up the whole screen and Optimus knows he's in for it now.

"Now for you," Ratchet says dangerously calm, "Gettin' injured in the same spot? Prime. Kid. You better be taking care of yourself." He threatens.

"Ratchet _—_"

"Don't try it kid! I remember what happen on Asteroid 2342-56, Maintenance Base 35, and the whole incident in sector 234-120. Where - I remind you - you opened up that gash in your leg again!" Ratchet lists off way too fast for Optimus to defend himself, but when he finishes Optimus doesn't have much to say, "That's what I thought."

And yes all of those times had him not taking the best care of himself, but he was the leader and he couldn't leave everything to Ratchet. Besides, even if he had been hurt it was better that it was him and not his team. He had stronger plating than them, he could and had, bounced back easier.

"So have you been doing any manual labor?" Ratchet asks, frown deepening.

Shaking his head slowly, Optimus has to reset his vox at the fierce glare he was receiving, "...No. I wouldn't do that after something this bad, especially because it happened twice."

And yesterday really didn't count.

_A comparatively large servo gently hooks under his bent knees and slowly drags him out from under the deck unit. Looking up, he sees the four Decepticons that had been around him, who had been listening to how he was fixing the system, were gone and Megatron had taken their place._

_"What are you doing?" _

_"Fixing the cathodes with an ionized charge so —"_

_"Here?"_

_Brow furrowing in confusion he looks up at his servos above his helm, still holding a collection of wires, and then back to Megatron._

_When Megatron does nothing he deliberately says the next glyphs slowly, "I'm helping."_

_Megatron's optics narrow into ruby slits as his dermas thin further, "You're not meant to be here. You're supposed to be resting."_

_"I have rested and I’m fine," He answers tightly, "I'm even laying down again. I can't do anything too strenuous on my back, can I?" He huffs going back to stripping the wires._

_But he stops as he feels Megatron's field warm with mirth. Looking up curiously he freezes when he sees a very salacious smirk directed his way._

_"I feel others could make a very compelling argument for that." Megatron practically purrs._

_His frame warms as he realizes his own phrasing, but he won't let the warlord see him off balance again as he glares back with a contemptuous_ _look._

_"Don't be crass." He hisses and bristles his field._

_But Megatron's digits barely flinch at what would have been discomforting for most. With a lighter teasing grin, Megatron hums noncommittal at his attack and drags him out the rest of the way, handing him over to Long Haul’s and his raspy ranting. _

He had been working on the navigation systems as one of the flight techs complained about the slow response time. They had shown him the section of the deck that wasn't working as well after the latest battle that left Optimus back at square one of his recovery. The repair was supposed to be quick and easy, but...

"Really?" Ratchet questions disbelieving, his glare strengthening, and despite his best efforts and the distance between them being lightyears Optimus feels the need to confess to the small violation.

** _PING!_ **

It takes everything in Optimus to not sigh in relief at hearing the entry chime.

"Oh, that must be Blurr and Jazz," _And not too soon either!_ "I'm sorry to cut this short Ratchet."

"I'm sure you are," He says with a knowing half-smile, "Just don't do too much okay."

"I won't Ratchet. I promise."

With a fond roll of his optics the medic ends the call as Blurr and Jazz walk in.

"Optimus-Prime." Blurr greets him before sitting down.

"Hey OP," Jazz greets him as well as he all but slides into his own chair, "How you feelin'?"

"Better," _Much better now that the Hatchet isn't staring me down,_ "My left hip is still a bit tender after the resealing. I think it’s the lighter graph they used. But my leg has been healing up fine so I only feel a light strain."

Putting on a pleasant smile for them, to reinforce that he was alright, Optimus pulls out his datapad that had the proficiency numbers for all the 'departments' of Megatron's personal armada.

"And I’m pretty sure I should be the one asking you that question."

"Then ask away," Jazz grins.

Nodding, Optimus lets the smile slip off his face as the first topic was serious.

"How is the working atmosphere with Shockwave? I've heard that productivity has increased by 10.348% since you started working with him."

And that was a weighted question considering the fluctuations of Shockwave’s moods and Optimus himself retaliating in some way. Tripline had made a vague mention of their tiff and Jazz and Blurr's arrival having an effect on Intel. Hearing that Optimus needed to be sure that the new numbers didn’t mean Shockwave was taking his frustrations out on everyone because of his dislike of him.

Blurr and Jazz share a look before turning the confused gaze to him, "That sounds good to me."

"He reported it to me with a level of disgust and tiredness that I'm not sure how to interpret." And remembering the single opticked glare that accompanied it had Optimus' internals crawling.

"Oh!" Jazz grins, the smugness radiating off him could have outshone Megatron's, "Its probably the k-pop." 

Blinking as his processor tries to interpret that statement Optimus comes up short after a cycle.

"...... The what?" He asks faintly. 

As Blurr sinks into his chair Jazz sits up straighter and his grin becomes almost devious as he starts explaining.

"So I play music when I'm working, see? Tripline and Razor noticed and asked me what I was listening to, and it happened to be k-pop. I let them listen in and they loved it and it went on from there."

"What went on from there?"

"Playing the music out loud of course. Gotta share the joys of music," Jazz smirks evilly and Blurr rolls his optics to the ceiling, "Had to download forty copies of the Korean language, which let me tell you is a bummer, but don't worry, its not loud. And like you said it's getting stuff done."

If he hadn't known by now to expect the unexpected from his team Optimus is sure he'd be short-circuiting from this reveal. Because how else was he suppose to process that deck twelve now had forty gruff deep or sharp raspy voxed Decepticons singing to k-pop and in an enclosed area with a bot that seemed to live for silence. It sounded like the worst kind of torture because he remembers when Sari would play it on the speakers Bumblebee and Bulkhead fixed up in her temporary room.

But it also sounded like the funniest thing ever.

He stops trying to smother his smile after two failed attempts and just tries to stop himself from laughing out right.

"How is Shockwave taking it?" He finally asks without laughing.

"Sequesters himself in his office. But I've seen his claws tapping out a beat once or twice when he comes out into the main room." Jazz says looking very proud of himself.

"Besides that how is it working with Shockwave?"

"I hate to say it, but with the whole Longarm-Shockwave thing he knows how we operate," Jazz says blithely and Blurr nods in morose agreement, "Makes it pretty easier to get work done, and it helps that the other Decepticons have been pretty chill too."

"They-are-still-secretive-about-Decepticon-related-issues,-but all-other-information-surrounding-this-war-has-been-freely-shared."

"So it's acceptable? You're comfortable?"

"Absolutely!" Blurr answers a little too fast for his taste.

Optimus doesn't press it and continues with the briefing, but throughout he does share discrete concern looks with Jazz that has him more concern about Blurr. By the end of the meeting Optimus had strengthens his resolve to bring up this concern.

"That it?"

"That's it. I've talked about everything that I needed both of you to hear," Optimus says as he puts the datapad away, "I'll be checking in with everyone later if you want to come by."

"Will do OP," And Jazz gives him a jaunty salute, "If this little shindig is done I wanted to talk to you in private about some internal stuff going on."

"Of course, but could you give me one moment with Blurr, please."

"Sure thing. Be waiting out in the hall."

Giving Blurr's shoulder kibble a friendly pat he slips out into the hall. With Jazz temporarily gone Blurr frowns as he looks back to him.

"Is-something-wrong-sir?" Blurr frowns.

Dermas thinning into a grimace Optimus starts to feel uncomfortable again about bringing this topic up. But as their leader, and because he cared, he needed to address it.

"Not exactly, but it could be. Blurr your attraction to Shockwave," Blurr jolts up right, but Optimus continues in his calm tone to not startle Blurr anymore, "I've seen some of those feelings resurfacing in the past few decacycles. And while I allow this conflict of interest, mostly because I doubt I could persuade you to the contrary, I know you’re not letting your personal feelings stop you from doing your job."

"And-it-will-stay-that-way-sir!"

"I know and I trust you, but it needed to be brought up," He placates him before getting to the part that made his tanks bubble, "Blurr, I don't know what is truly going on, but the fraternization rules about enemies and any others... They don't really apply here in this moment... If you do anything please stay safe." 

The look of hope the spy has settles weirdly over Optimus and he feels worst for bring up the topic when Blurr's faceplates sink into sorrow.

"I-understand-sir...Thank-you-sir." Closing off his field he speeds out of the room.

_Why did I say that?_

Rubbing at his optics Optimus bemoans his actions. He had been ardently placing himself between the two, but had soften since Shockwave's amended behavior didn't only extend to Blurr. He had also kept his distance from Wasp and Bumblebee. So against his better judgment, Optimus was giving the benefit of the doubt to Blurr to deal with this. But he was still going to keep an optic on him and the Decepticon that seemed compelled to loom over him.

And Optimus knew how over-awing that could be.

_Stop! You're thinking about him again!_

Optimus had desperately tried to shove those thoughts down and not ponder over them too much, yet they continued to spark over his processor. And thinking about it Optimus couldn't help but cringed at himself for remembering how tender Megatron had been when making him comfortable in his office. His memory was hazy, but he couldn't mistake that field for any other bot. Optimus hesitated to call the action as such, but no other word fit.

Megatron was a threat - still is a threat - though slowly becoming a more predictable one. But instead of his spark jumping in fear when they were in close proximity it burns with wanting to know more of that feeling. The latest event being the battle that placed him back on medical leave.

When that section of the Command Deck had been taken out it was Megatron who had gallantly pulled him from the wreckage of the fallen ceiling and blown out windows. Optimus was barely able to say a confused 'thank you' before Megatron was telling and helping the remaining crew shut down all the systems of the _Talon_. In the midst of this he asked Optimus’ opinion on pulling off a scheme of having the cruiser play dead so they could outflank the Qidreidians’ incoming ships. With a quick calculation and using the Seeker ledge as the exit points they were able to take out two heavy cruisers and damaged the one that took the initial shot at them. With the battle won Megatron made it his prerogative - against Optimus' wishes - to carry him to medical, citing he couldn't let his personal battle computer bleed out.

What worried Optimus is he could tell Megatron was teasing and any sinister or ill-will was vacant from his faceplates and his field. Megatron truly approved of him and it left Optimus wondering, longing, to know why he respected somebot like him and why he was hoping for more. It was dangerous to romanticizes the other's action as Megatron was still willing to be ruthless if it was called for... but now Optimus knew he was capable of some level of graciousness and it meshed awkward and perfectly with the growing data he had been subconsciously compiling.

It made Megatron more complex, wonderfully so.

_I'm doing it again! He was just being nice, nothing more... Which is so weird because it shouldn't fit...... So why does it?_

Burying his face in his arms Optimus takes a shuttering vent as he realizes his Academy infatuation with the warlord was coming back to kick him in the exhaust pipe at the worst time. And that daunting thought alone has Optimus' chassis seizing in indecision as it takes up residence in his processor, whispering away as a tickle in his throat becomes more noticeable. Like he wanted to blurt something out but he doesn't know what!

Its the polite knock on the desk that shakes him from his thoughts. Looking up, Optimus tries to focus on Jazz so he wouldn't notice his frame's varying reactions, but it was difficult.

"You doing okay there?" Jazz asks as Optimus sits up and tries to look more collected than he felt in the moment.

"Yeah – Yes. I’m fine," Jazz does not look convince, but he does take a seat, "What did you want to discuss Jazz?"

"You."

A chill crawls up his spinalstruct as shame weaves it’s way through every joint. Optimus never wanted to be the motivator for any issues, yet it seemed he was curse to cause problems for those around him.

"M-me? Why?"

"I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say you’re not in the best place right, literally and well..."

Slowly clenching his fists Optimus locks his joints to keep them from future shaking. Jazz isn’t concern, no he’s disappointed and the shame tightens it hold.

"I wouldn’t disagree." He answers steadily.

"Optimus," More locks go into place. Jazz never used full names unless he was being serious, "You know we came with you so you wouldn’t be alone. Yeah there are somethings only you can get done here, but you’re allowed to come to us when you’re frayed at the circuits."

"That wouldn’t —"

" ‘Be proper Prime behavior’," Jazz interrupts sounding faintly annoyed with the statement, "Heard the same spiel when I got paired up with Sentinel. Look. I get there is some prestige that comes with the title and you can’t share everything and you don’t got to either," Leaning forward, Jazz places his servos centimeters from his twitching servos, "It’s not good to think you’re alone in this because aren’t. You have us."

The sincerity was soothing and Optimus knows – he does – that it’s true, but for some reason he couldn’t fully trust it. He honestly though that he had gotten better with his trust issues when he was able to confide somethings to Ratchet during their maintenance tour. But fifty plus stellar cycles without his therapy appointments was bound to cause some problems.

"I don’t ... I mean..."

"Hey, don’t feel bad. I’m not disappointed in you," Jazz assures him, his smile slight but true, "You don’t know me enough to feel comfortable talkin’ to me, but you should talk to someone."

"I don’t want anyone to worry," Optimus murmurs, his thoughts becoming verbalized, "They shouldn’t have too. I brought this up. I’m in charge. I have a responsibility."

"A leader is only as strong as his team. And you don’t have to be strong all the time."

Warm servos lay on top of his and the understanding field is too much and just enough as it ripples over him and his systems roughly unlock. Optimus' core fills with a swell of heat and everything feels like small bouts of statics jumping across his plating. It takes everything to not sound as exhausted as he was.

"I’ve never done anything like this before. Everything is a bargain or compromise or something new and, and...," Glancing up he can see the concern Jazz has pass his visor. It's too heavy to bare so he ducks his helm further, "I don't want Ratchet to worry. He already worrying about Omega Supreme and watching after Sari. And Prowl and you are helping Wasp and he should be the priority after —"

Patting his right servo, Optimus looks up and sees a caring smile, "Anyone younger than me, regardless of title, will be a concern for me. Anyone who's a friend of mine will be a concern of mine. Stress is stress and I want to help."

It hard to see for sure, but Jazz’s field is so open, so calm and full of warmth and acceptance when it shouldn’t be. Optimus can tell this is the older mech speaking from his spark. In a bout of faith he lets his left servo unfurl, but the static is too much that he can only hold lightly onto Jazz’s digits, to let him know he’s not against any help from the cyber-ninja.

"I’m here if you need me." Jazz’s dermas lift at the ends as he tightens the tentative touch.

"You’re a good bot Jazz."

"I try," He says with a modest smile, "You going be okay main mech?"

"Yeah I... I think I'll keep to reviews for now so not to worry any—"

But looking at Jazz and his tiny frown Optimus remembers his therapist with the same frown. ‘Changing the glyphs are the first way to change your thinking’ they had said and Jazz didn’t know it but he was likely in the same mindset.

"So not to worry my injury with too much moving." He tries, voice unsteady.

He is rewarded with a tiny smile and a light pat to his right servo, "If that what keeps you from busting your plates again. You need to start being good to yourself Optimus."

"I do try." Optimus says softly, unable to maintain optic contact.

"And that’s a great start," Jazz encourages him as he begins to stand, but doesn’t let go yet, "And we’ll be here for anything. Good or bad."

And he did. His team would try to be there for him, even if he couldn’t verbalize what he wanted, they knew. Being reminded of that does help the uncomfortable heat settle.

"I'll let you know when I put in a call for Rebirth Base." Optimus tells him and Jazz smiles brighter as he squeezes his digits once more before letting go.

Snapping his digits to make little finger guns, like Sari showed him, he walks out backwards, "Sure thing." 

"Jazz... Thank you." Optimus' dermas lift into a grin as he watches the other. 

"No worries," He says with another jaunty salute, but with a genuine smile that had Optimus feel lighter than he had been lately.

Prowl was usually able to find peace in any situation, even in the midst of his less than calm team. But recently he was being burden with more than he was used to.

He had been careful about his behavior towards Jazz, hoping it seemed more as if he cherish the other's insight rather than admired the mech. He was worried about Optimus having been left, injured and vulnerable, with Megatron. He was stressed because of this audacious plan Ultra Magnus created. And now he was annoyed because of the company he would have to keep on this goodwill mission.

They had just landed on Planet Master, which was in dire straits because the Prime of the system refused the help of the Decepticons. The Decepticons, not seeing themselves obligated, left her and her armies and went to the nearby contested system of Opulus. Without their help, the lost had been devastating with the Rebirth Base Autobots’ losing a a staggering number of soldiers and their Prime in two orbital cycles. The Major who had taken over wasn’t thrilled about letting the Decepticons help him as they had let his Prime and fellow Autobots die in battle, but one doesn't ignore a decree from the Magnus.

Prowl would never be truly in favor of the Decepticons, but this was not their fault completely. They weren’t given the choice to stay so they left for more agreeable Autobots. And while they were gone in the Opulus System they were able to help Ultra Magnus and his armies destroy the entire Qidriedian fleet holding the system hostage. If they were willing to respect the late Dynamo Prime’s choices they shouldn’t be demonized when they followed her demands. But still, they shouldn’t have left, though that was another thing entirely.

Because of all of this political fare Ultra Magnus had asked for Optimus' team to go to the Dominus System and show the remaining 10,000 Autobots that working with Decepticons was feasible. But with Optimus injury he couldn’t go and no one was willing to leave him alone. This led to them drawing slivers of metal to decide who would go and who would stay and it was some relief to Prowl that Jazz would be one of the mechs to stay behind. But it left him wondering what Ultra Magnus was thinking. Did he truly expect seven - now four - bots could actually provide a message of unity between 10,000 bitter Autobots and 2,000 indifferent Decepticons until reinforcements arrived?

To put it politely, Prowl was becoming incredibly irritated about all of this and they had only been here a megacycle. Then suddenly all of those problems became precarious as well.

"Sari!"

Hoping Bumblebee was mistaken Prowl follows the yellow minibot and is promptly disappointed with what he sees.

"You're here!" He yells as Sari zips around another Decepticon loading off medical supplies for the base.

He brings her in for a hug and soon she’s giggling as she's stuck between him and Bulkhead as he squeezing the life out of Bumblebee attempting to be part of the hug.

"It’s so good to see you Sari!" Bulkhead beams.

"I couldn't let you have all the fun. Plus, I want to be able to help out." Sari says as she wiggles out to hug the side of Bulkhead’s helm.

Bulkhead grins from bolt to bolt as he gently pats her head. Then with a final tight hug she flying down to Wasp, who is watching in amusement only to gap in surprised when Sari tells him that it was 'great to see him too'. The minibot nods dumbly and answers with a faint 'you too' and her eyes crink up in a smile behind her battlemask. But turning towards him she stops short.

"That’s definitely a Ratchet look," She says slowly, "I thought you’d be happy to see me."

"We are," Bumblebee pipes up as he glares at him, "Don’t worry about —"

"How did you get here?" Prowl interrupts, he didn't have the patience to argue with Bumblebee.

"I took the emergency shuttle," Pointing back with her thumb.

Following her direction he can see the shuttle shine in the light of the blue star. Yet, Prowl distinctly remembers it blowing up on Earth's moon during his unwise mission to take out Starscream.

"But the Epsilon was destroyed."

"Yeah, but Omega got a new one for safety reasons."

Optics narrowing, Prowl unfolds his arms to hold out a servo for Sari to sit in. After looking at it petulantly she sighs and powers down her jetpack to take a seat.

"That doesn’t explain why you’re here." He tries again in a calmer tone.

"Come on Prowl, lay off," Bumblebee whines, "She’s here, with us, it’s fine."

"It is not fine," Rolling his optics at the shortsightedness of his teammate he looks back to Sari, "I can’t imagine Ratchet allowed this, did he?"

Hunching over, Sari crosses her arms in a pout and leaves it at that.

"Sari." He prompts after a few nanokliks pass.

"Ratchet and Omega got reassigned to Elba and I may have possible overheard about you guys being here," She starts off with a snap in her tone, but it fades, "I missed you all, just because.... But also because the last time I saw anyone it was Optimus." She whispers pulling her legs up to her chest.

And they all knew how she felt.

Looking to the others Prowl can see everyone else was also experiencing the memories of that day, the files crawling out of the depths of his processors as well. Getting that urgent long range message from Ratchet about what had happened was awful, but it didn't compare to seeing Optimus in that state. There was only minor relief for Prowl when Optimus regained consciousness, but he knew and was already worried about how much more of a disadvantage Prime was at now. 

"I saw this chance and decided to take it. I convinced Omega to let me take his safety pod, and don’t worry, I told him to tell Ratchet as soon as he wakes up. I knew I’d be here before hand and I know Omega won't lie. I just thought it would be great to get part of the gang back together." She says halfheartedly.

"Sari this isn't something you can joke about. It’s dangerous here —"

"Prowl, I know," Sari says firmly. Standing, small frame taunt with determination as she holds his gaze, "I’ve seen. Most of my life is filled with danger and wacky adventurous. I know what's at stake here and I won't interfere with anything. I just want to help. Please let me. I know I can."

Then in what Prowl knows is a last ditch attempt to let her stay Sari looks up and gives her best version of 'puppydog eyes' from behind her battlemask. In no time Bumblebee joins in with his naturally large optics cycling wider and giving them an eerie appeal. But Bulkhead doing a very good version of his tugs at Prowl's core much like Sari’s. Turning to Wasp he shrugs, looking painfully out of depth about what was going on. With no back-up Prowl feels his spark give and he drops his helm into his free servo with a sigh as everyone celebrates, Sari flying over to dance around her partners-in-crime.

"Don't get too excited," That cuts the cheering short, "You can stay on the condition that if anything happens that we know we can’t handle you have to promise to leave for the nearest safe system."

He wouldn’t risk it and if he had to Prowl would gladly let himself be a casualty of this war if it meant protecting Sari. And he knew everyone was willing to do the same.

"Prowl —" 

"No he's right Sari," Bumblebee agrees, deflating, "We don't want you to get hurt so you gotta promise to go if it gets too bad."

Shoulders sagging in defeat she nods and flies closer to hold out her pinkie to him.

"Pinkie promise." She says lightly.

With a light smile, Prowl extends his own pinkie to lightly tap against hers. And with that he mentally braces himself to listen to Ratchet's rage rant over this in the near future when he realized his charge was missing.

"Um!"

Turning to the questioning noise he finds a mostly green Elite Gaurdsfemme with black racing stripes. She was standing close by but her focus was on the Decepticons meandering back and forth. It was odd how that didn't immediately worry Prowl like it used to.

"Can we help you?" Bulkhead asks after another cycle goes by of her staring.

"What? Oh! Right. Are you the Autobots of Team Sol?" She asks jumping a bit when a Decepticons walks too close, her vision obscured by the part of an anti-aircraft machine.

"Yes." Prowl answers.

Looking down at her datapad she quickly looks back up to check her surroundings again before she looking back at the datapad and trying to focus on it.

"Is, well, is a Prowl here? He’s needed at Medbay one."

"For what reason?"

"I don't know I was just told so." Her voice gaining a panicked edge as her optics continue to dart around.

It sounded suspicious as they would usually meet with Autobot leadership with the Decepticon General assigned, but this time he was begin called to Medical. And on top of that it was only him begin called. Prowl didn't like it, but if he wanted to know why he was going to have to make the trek.

"I am Prowl. I will make sure the Decepticons understand the boundaries of the base," 'And that they not break too much' went unsaid. It was a necessity Prowl had to bring up with the Decepticon Commanders as he had already seen one Con throw a crate of live ammo rounds at another Con's faceplates earlier, "And then I will go to Medbay one."

"Right!" She says and all but shoves the datapad at his chassis, "Here’s the layout."

Before he can thank her she was speeding away in a cloud of dust.

Looking over to the tsking noise he sees Sari shaking her head before saying in a teasing tone, "The youth today. No manners."

"It is a dying art apparently," Prowl says, though he wonders if the femme's fear of Decepticons was natural or something more, "Come along, we need to figure out where we can make an oxygen rich area for you."

"Don't worry! I brought the shoebox." Sari beams.

Rolling his optics, Prowl shuffles his team to the larger hangers and warehouses of the base that were emptied for the Decepticons' arrival.

* * *

"I'm Medical Officer Sensory and you are Prowl of Team Sol? Your Planetary Commander Prime is Optimus Prime, correct?" The doctor asks.

As she stands to walk around her desk Prowl can see she had been designed for grace. She had the basic red and white, but had highlights of sea foam decaled over her frame as well. It brighten her in a different way from her striking base colors, made her softer, more approachable as she takes her seat across from him.

"That is correct. Can I ask what this is about?" Prowl asks as he turns to face her.

"It's standard to have teams be re-evaluated by staff when they arrive, but as Head of Medical of this facility I asked to see the Autobots that came with the Decepticons." She tells him getting right to the point.

"Which means there is a specific reason I've been called here."

"Yes. I plan to talk to the rest of your team, but with you designated as one of the senior members of Team Sol I wanted to approach you first," She says, but her pleasant smile twitches down and Prowl notices that her optics seem dulled, "I also wanted you to be aware that I am a licensed psychiatrist."

War was always horrendous, but he hadn't dealt with anything that he thinks could be classified as needing to talk with a psychiatrist. But knowing this now he should see if she would set up a time for Wasp, if he was willing.

"Why would I want to be aware if this?"

She pauses, obviously expecting a different response, "... It has come to some of the Autobots' understanding that a huge and thankless burden has been placed on your team's Prime and I wanted to help address the problem." Sensory clarifies as her faceplates tightening, though her tone stays soft.

If there were a more confusing set of glyphs Prowl could not think of them now because he was too perplexed by what the doctor was trying to convey.

"I realize writing up a treaty is a large undertaking, especially with no prior training, but I would hope it would not be considered thankless."

Her faceplates slacken before her brow furrows in understanding and her expression becomes pitying, "You haven't heard what’s happened to your Prime have you?"

The solemn tone builds dread in his core, like the fear of falling before taking the jump, but it doesn't stop him from wanting to know.

"What are you talking about?"

* * *

He was a silent raging storm as he let his pedes swiftly take him to his destination. His thoughts swirling, jumping from one to the other with no true answers and fueling his ire.

Taking a corner too fast, Prowl catches himself before slamming into a wall, and with his momentum halted his fury grows. Frozen in place, unsure of what to do next as his spark thunders in his chassis, every hydraulic primed and his joints locked. It was as if he was doing everything to hold himself in place against his emotional windstorm while also being too alert of an invisible threat. So caught up in his processor he doesn't hear the soft questioning voice next to him, not really, but it was something and he snaps. The pain from punching the wall creeps up his arm and shakes loose some of the tenseness in his frame, but hearing a familiar whimper causes Prowl to go tense for a different reason.

Turning unhurriedly he finds Wasp backed up against the opposite wall, frozen, optics wide and glazed. All the irritation fizzles out to make way for horrible disappointment in his actions.

"Wasp," And the minibot flinches as he shrinks further into his armor, "I —"

"Prowl? Wasp? What's wrong?"

Looking to Bulkhead he sees the younger bot walk over to Wasp and reach out. Before Prowl could tell Bulkhead to wait he lays a claw on Wasp's shoulder and the minibot immediately grabs hold and hides behind Bulkhead's girth. Not moving too much Bulkhead cautiously moves in for a hug that Wasp burrows into, shaking so loud that even Prowl can hear it.

"What happen? Did he have another...you know." And gives Prowl a meaningful look.

"No. I... It's difficult to handle my emotions right now and I took my anger out on the wall," Prowl tells him as he takes slow steps closer. Prowl waits until he sees Wasp peak out over Bulkhead's arms to address him, "Forgive me Wasp. I didn't mean to frighten you."

Purple optics stares back blankly before he nods cautiously and Prowl hopes he hasn't undone any of the trust he had build with Wasp. Now more than ever they would need to rely on each other more.

Standing from his awkward crouch Bulkhead brings Wasp with him and he sinks more into Bulkhead's hold.

_At least that didn't seem to change._

Out of all of them Wasp had gravitated to Bulkhead and Optimus despite his touch-starved state to stand close or to be held by the other two.

"So what's wrong Prowl? I haven't seen you that mad since... Well since we first met you?"

And just like that storm is back and he grits out, "They know."

"Know what?"

"The Autobots know about Optimus giving himself over to Megatron," And Prowl has to pause to compose himself, "... But they think he’s position is to be a courtesan of some sort for him."

Both Bulkhead and Wasp gasp looking equally horrified.

"It-It's not true. It isn't!" Wasp yells scrambling down from Bulkhead, "It can't." He voice cracks as his optics pale at that terrible thought.

"But... But he isn't he... I mean that's... He told us ...," And looking sparkbroken and angry in the same vein Bulkhead asks, "Did... Did he lie?"

"I don't know, but I know who can tell us the truth." 

Hurrying to where Blitzwing was - the only other Decepticon there when this happened - he finds him and a scene of idiocy.

Stepping into the Decepticons' war room, Thundercrash, the commander for the mission, stood with his other commander Sky-Byte on his right and Sari floating to his left. While Sky-Byte was busy with the building of battle formations Sari was bobbing in the air, glee visible from across the half completed war room.

"Does he really think he can take him?" Thundercrash asks, looking dubiously at the scene as the two sized each other up.

"Yes! And I'm fifty-five percent sure he can."

"Fifty-five percent?"

"Fifty percent chance that he can do it. Five extra percent for the possibility a klutzy mistake helps him win."

Not having time for this lunacy Prowl throws one of his disc between the two to get their attention.

"Blitzwing we need to talk."

"**VHAT!**," He barks, stomping his pede hard enough to rattle the crates, "**CAN'T JOU ZEE I HAVE A BUMBLING BUG TO CRUSH!**"

"Hey! It's Bumblebee, not Bumblebug." Bumblebee yells back with a devious grin.

"**I DIDN'T SAY ZAT!**"

"How can anyone tell with you're silly accent?"

"**MY ACCENT IZ NORMAL FOR A TYGER PAXIAN!**" He roars as he lunges, but with his jetpack Prowl extracts Bumblebee from the attack.

"You can beat him up later," Dropping Bumblebee not to nicely, Prowl goes to hover in front of the Triple Changer, "I have an important question to ask you and you _will _answer it."

"**VHAT IZ MORE IMPORTANT ZAN SQUASHING ZE BUG!**"

Dentea grinding at even thinking about what he had to ask Prowl forces himself to speak levelly, "Does being a Token mean the mecha is to be a berthwarmer."

"What _THE_ hell Prowl?!"

The angry faceplates drops in shock before changing to the wild faceplates.

Or tried to.

It stops halfway between red and black before they try to slide back the other way only for it to shift back again. Then with a loud crack, that has Prowl jolting back, he watches in disgust as the faceplates go through several full spin sequences before loudly snapping to a stop on the cool expression. And Blitzwing almost looks remorseful.

"Vhere did jou hear zis?"

"From Medical Officer Sensory."

"Is... Is that what I think it means?" 

He had forgotten himself again and stunned silent Prowl lands and turns to face Sari.

"Sari —"

"Is it though?" She asks as her small form begins to tremble before her jetpack gives out. For a nanoklik Prowl's spark drops as he and the others rush to her only for Thundercrash to gently catch her and pass her over to him, "Is a berthwarmer supposed to be like a bedwarmer? Is ...Is Optimus... He said he was just a secretary." She begs, her voice wobbling as she shakes.

"He iz a secretary. Und a strategist." Blitzwing says softly.

"Then why does - I assume this entire base - believe there's something else going on." Prowl whispers harshly as he passes Sari off to Bumblebee to fully glare at the Decepticons.

Blitzwing and Thundercrash sigh uncomfortably, but it's Sky-Byte that speaks up.

"What do you know about the Given?"

"Optimus told us that he was one and that we shouldn't worry too much. That it was an old warframe tradition he had to follow," Bulkhead answers uneasily, "Said he wouldn't be doing more than planning for battles and writing the treaty."

Recalling the day, Prowl had wondered why Optimus had looked so distress and uncomfortable after the call on the _Steelhaven_ and then later when he was being led away by Megatron to the Command Deck of the _Lament_. Even when he finally explained what was going on he still had a faint wisp of despair in his field. Prowl had assumed it was the worry of them all willing stepping pede onto a Decepticon ship for an extended period of time, but now he knew the deeper truth.

"But he obviously knew something more that we didn't," Prowl surmises, "So tell me. How does something that only Decepticons, and I assume scholars, would know make it into common Autobot knowledge now. Why is every Autobot here thinking that the only reason Megatron would help us is because he was allowed to interface with Optimus?"

"The Chief's Token," Thundercrash says crossing his arms, his optics falling to the war table, but Prowl can see he's staring through it, "It’s a tradition that is still followed, though it has changed with the times, its main objective is that a Token is a way to visually state that the two groups value the pledge they are making to help the other. Most communities were nomadic and didn't usually have a writing system so the action proved respect and openness."

"And actions are more powerful than words," Sky-Byte says as he looks to Prowl skeptically, "For what has happened I believe someone on your Council was smart enough to realize what your Magnus did, but it’s likely, as with all things, that by the time it trickled down to the masses it was not given enough context. Regardless, Optimus Prime as a Token proves to many of us of the urgency we are in the midst of."

Prowl was faintly surprised with how opened they were being with this. He doubts he would get the chance again so he pressed his questioning of the older Decepticon.

"You spoke of help. In what way?"

"As most of Cybertron was made up of wandering communities it could range. There was supplying extra resources in famine, combining communities for war with a larger community, and on the other side a show of peaceful surrender, protection, or wanting to combine communities because of the good terms and strength it could cause," Sky-Byte counts off each probability on the tip of his talons, "With such straits always dire in the Wildlands they would trade their most prized mechas and a few gifts to the stronger community to show a vulnerability. To be taken seriously in the matter." 

"What does 'prized' mean?" Wasp asks quietly, looking queasy even asking.

"Someone that is held in high standard by the offering chief," Thundercrash adds, still expressing some form of discomfort, "It would usually be their sparkling or an advisor. Something that was a sacrifice for them to prove, as I said before, the seriousness of this deal. It was also to prove that they wouldn’t betray you because you held someone precious to them to keep the alliance."

"You know a lot about this? I didn’t think Cons had to take boring history lessons too."

Sari flicks Bumblebee in the face before Prowl could reach out and smack him himself. At the remark Thundercrash’s jaw hitches and his optics briefly cut to Sky-Byte, who looked away, troubled.

"From my carrier," He answers as his optics pale and his hold on his arms tighten, "He was the first officer of a small crew of neutral warframe scavengers. When all warframes and Decepticons were exiled from Cybertron and without much left they sought shelter in the New Empire. They had the misfortune of landing on Ceti Alpha Seven. For the crew’s protection and induction, he allowed the captain to give him up and enough of the protomatter they still had for a sparkling shell to Governor Thunderblast." He sneers.

"The Mech Eater?!" Bumblebee squeaks.

"The Void-Sparked." Prowl gasps.

He had heard of her atrocities, how could he not when Praxus was near the Mithril Sea and her infamy started long before the Great War. She was a vicious killer on the battlefield, but that did not compare to her purely merciless acts in all her aquatic battles. Suddenly Thundercrash's designation and his semi-aquatic sand-trimaran mode had as a deeper meaning and not a flattering one.

"My carrier and her two other Tokens are still very much online." Thundercrash defends his sire reluctantly.

"Mech Eater?" Sari asks.

"She enjoys 'taming' mechs to fit her liking." Blitzwing grumbles with a sneer.

Jumping up Sari radiates fear and anger as she screams, "How does this help?! You expect us to be okay with this Token business when you apparently got a dominatrix for a mom out of it!"

Optic ridges furrow or go up in confusion before looking to them for translation.

"What she's saying is how can we be sure that what you are saying is true? How can we know for sure that Megatron _won't_ when one of his generals has three tokens? A general, all Autobots know at large to be less than obligating?"

"Now see here!" Sky-Byte snaps, looking disgruntled for the first time, "My dear General has been obliging to her unit and has done an excellent job training her successors. Thunderbolt and Thunderstrike are excellent fighters and she may have even outdone herself with Thundercrash."

"Training is different than raising," Sari hisses and Thundercrash’s derma twitch in a hint of a smile before going flat again.

"Regardless of my compatible unit's numerous issues it is safe to say Optimus Prime is in no trouble of that."

"Vhere Optimus Prime's room iz, iz proof zat’s not ze case. Ze fact he has one at all iz another. Zere may be a crude comment or two, but zat’s all it iz. It isn't practice like it was on Ceti anymore... or at least not en-masse."

"But before?" Bumblebee asks.

"Oh most assuredly," Sky-Byte says with a dramatic flair, "It was how life was. Harsh and unforgiving, in a constant state of flux with no clue to what would befall our ancestors next. But it has changed and will stay that way. The Decepticons know Lord Megatron is not interested in your little leader and most theorizes it was by accident. But it is a strict tradition to be kept and will be follow through."

That silences them for a moment only for Bumblebee to ask what was all on their processors, "Is there a way to get out of it?" 

The looks of confusion they receive does not fill Prowl with any confidence and neither do the answers.

"You have to understand that these agreements were usually permanent after a while. Most led to bonding, usually to the chief or perhaps a close advisor. After everything is over Lord Megatron might let him go." Thundercrash says soberly.

"But it iz only a possibility."

Anger from before rages again and mixes with all the dour emotions brought on by this new knowledge. Prowl knows no amount of mediating or time with his thoughts will cure him of this helpless disillusioned ire he has been saddled with now. And that only serves to make the anger grow.

"I think today’s session went well Wasp," Doctor Sensory says with a gentle smile, "But I think Crossflare will be a better match." 

"Oh."

Wasp doesn't - can't say much. He still feels listless, empty, and it wasn't weird being pass off from one guard to the next. It was how his existence was. But it didn't stop him from briefly wondering if this would stick. Like how Prowl and Jazz did.

"He used to work with Autobots that were integrating back into society from prison," She continues, "He hasn’t worked with anyone from the Stockades before, but I believe it will be very beneficial."

That sounded like a lot and Wasp doesn’t know if he could. He didn't want to relive it and he didn't want to be stuck in Medical for the rest of his existence if he didn't pass some unseen test. He hadn't —

"Is something wrong?" Looking up, not noticing that he had turned away, Wasp sees the doctor folding her servos as she watches him worriedly. Worried like... like his team, "Do you need something? Remember nothing leaves these walls."

He stares at her, trying to get a read, but her expression never changes. Her field stays the same placid level it had been since he came in half a megacycle ago and against the voice screeching in his helm to stay quiet he tells her.

"... Wasp only here for Prowl. He’s worried ... About me... No one ever did."

The answer seems to relax her as her shoulders sink and her servos fall open. Loose and safe. This was the right answer.

"Well I’m sure he was very happy that you came today," She smiles gently again, "And I’m sure he would stay by you even if you didn’t come by in three solar cycles. Each bot has a different process."

Not really thinking that far ahead he can only nod in agreement, but that only seems to make her sad. She leans back in her chair, her frame set loose again, unthreatening, only then does he feel his own plates loosen.

"How about this? I will set up the meeting and I’ll come with you so you aren’t alone, or you can invite Prowl. Both or either, your choice." She says giving him her full attention as she had before and it made a tiny bit of hope unfurl.

"Or no one?" He asks tentatively. 

"Or no one but you and Crossflare. Whatever you want." She agrees softly, much softer than any medic has ever talked about him... talked to him.

Wasp wasn't sure what he wanted. He knew he was hanging on because there were others that wanted him to, but even so he didn't know if he should now. He didn't want to disappoint.

"Wasp... Wasp will think about."

"Alright. Let me now what you decide," But as she moves to get up she stops and leans back into her chair, fixing him with a serious gaze. The voice in the back of his helm cackles at being right once again, "I have one more thing to say before I let you go."

_What did Wasp do wrong this time? I listened. I talked. Wasp was sure —_

"If you don't think Crossflare is a good match for you come tell me and we'll end these sessions until a better candidate comes along." Doctor Sensory says firmly.

That was not what Wasp was expecting. Sharp and biting words about what he had done wrong, yes, but not stern concern like Ratchet or Prowl. Like Optimus Prime.

"Will you do that for me?"

"Yes?"

With another soft smile Doctor Sensory gets up and opens the door of her office, "Thank you. And I hope you have a good rest of your solar cycle."

Despite the pleasant attitude she had and the session Wasp couldn't help thinking a vindictive 'as if'.

He leaves the medbay feeling exhausted and hungry Wasp makes the bold decision to get some fuel. An event that was far and few between. If he wasn’t hiding away from Shockwave or having episodes of paralyzing fear catch up to him out of nowhere he usually fueled when it was brought to him on the ship. On missions outside he felt a bit more comfortable going with his teammates.

Now walking into the commissary and being hit with the low buzz of conversation Wasp decides he'll pick up a cube, the quickest thing he could get, and leave back for his quarters. Walking up to the dispenser Wasp feels a half-smile on his dermas. He was doing something on his own and, well, he was a little proud of himself. 

"BR-638-345?"

Stopping in his tracks, Wasp hopes that who he just heard was only his processor playing tricks on him again. But turning around he finds his luck with life was still rotten as Hornet and Clipfly walk up to him in disbelief. He should have gotten someone to come get fuel with him, should have known he couldn't have a 'good solar cycle'. 

The golden and brown minibots walk closer and the looks of surprise morph into the same nasty grins from his early memories. Wasp's tanks squeeze terribly at the thought of interacting with them again. Past Wasp used to thrive on confrontation, but now he avoids it whenever he could.

"Wow it is you," Hornet smirks as he leans against the dispensers, the angle making his golden plating shine, "I heard you got mixed up in somethings after you left the Hive so I didn’t expect to see you here."

"What happened to your optics?" Clipfly asks as he leans completely into his space.

Not answering, and not wanting to, Wasp backs away from the intense scrutiny. 

Scoffing, Hornet rolls his optics, "Maybe he's trying to look like a Con, except the colors off."

"Not a Decepticon." Wasp tells him, but his vox wavers with static.

Smirk growing Hornet shrugs with a noncommittal hum, "You came in with that Team Sol didn't you."

"Yes?"

"Then you're practically a sympathizer already. You don't even have our symbol anymore," Hornet chuckles, a harsh and horrible sound, "Though I'm surprised for you. Really I am. I didn't think any Prime would want a frag-up on their team. But I hear he can't think too straight now."

"Yeah," Clipfly laughs loudly, "Too busy with other pleasures to notice —"

Wasp made the punch quick and brutal. He could even see the cracks in the protofom around Clipfly's olfactory senor and Wasp had never felt so good. Seeing one of his bullies go down and by him had an amazing thrill.

"What the — ?!"

"No one insult Optimus Prime! It's all a lie! Wasp won't let you spread that lie." He says, proud his vox sounded level and threatening.

Hornet stares at him in shock, but quickly composes himself, "Wasp hn? Is that what they call you? Or did you choose it?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Nothing," Hornet shrugs, "Sounds like you’re trying to copy me, like you always did." He says with malicious grin.

Bristling at the statement Wasp can't help thinking back to the caretakers, the ones that were supposed to treat them the same, but instead they gravitated to favorites. Favorites got names before they left the Hive Center and Hornet had been overwhelmingly favored and made sure everyone knew it.

"Wasp did not copy Hornet. Ever." 

"Really, because I remember you copying how I talked and my style. And I know you were looking over my tests too. Did Wasp not do that either?"

"Wasp didn't!" He yells back. They were all coincidences, nothing else!

"Can't even talk right either," Hornet chuckles as he gesturing to all of him, "You know, it's all stuff like _this_ that keeps you from being Elite Guard material. Always has, always will be. You just can’t handle the pressure. Too rough like a Con, but still too fragile to take a hint."

_He was wrong! Wasp had handled everything, Wasp was broken, but alive because I didn't... didn't break. I'm not weak.... I'm not!_

His plating had warmed to an uncomfortable degree and his spark hurt like there was a clamp around his throat again. Wasp couldn’t, he couldn't defend himself, just like before.

_I am weak._

"Hey pit spawn! Shove it up your actuator!" 

"What?"

Wasp is sure he was hearing things, but when he raises his helm he sees Bumblebee standing right beside him and he looks pissed.

"You heard me rust can!" The anger rolling off him snaps out when he points a digit right into Hornet's faceplates, "You can shove that stupid aft attitude right back into your too wide mouth." 

"My mouth isn’t - I don’t need to do anything and this doesn’t involve you." Hornet scoffs and tries to take a step forward, but Bumblebee doesn't give him a chance as he shoves him back into Clipfly.

"Like hell it doesn’t! Back up and go away."

As Wasp looks pass the argument he sees none of the other Autobots were coming to help and seemed more interested in watching. Just like at the Hive. Nothing really had changed, but Bumblebee didn't need to get involve. 

"Bumble don’t —"

"**JOU!**"

Wasp isn't sure how he missed the rumbling of Blitzwing's pedes, but as he storms in its the first that Wasp notices it. Though the look of rage is regular now with him and Bumblebee being in close proximity to each other. As he stomps forward everyone in the commissary scrambles to the back of the room or out the other way, but Hornet and Clipfly are too close to the object of Blitzwing's hate and freeze up on the spot. But Bumblebee turns around at the last nanoklik and stands firmly where he is with crossed arms and a look of disinterest.

"**VHEN I’M FINISH VITH JOU JOUR GOING TO HAVE —**"

"Not now Blitzbrain. I have bullies to put in place."

Hornet and Clipfly stare at Bumblebee's nonchalance in pure fear, while Wasp watches in disgust as Blitzwing grinds his denta so hard that Wasp swears he sees metal dust and sparks. In the next nanoklik Blitzwing changes again, but doesn't look any less mad.

"Vhat?" He asks flatly, field popping angrily in bouts.

"They were being dimsparks to Wasp and I need to teach them a lesson."

Blitzwing's single optic narrows as his monocle cycles down before turning his fierce glare to Hornet and Clipfly, "Jou heard him. Apologize."

"What!" Hornet squeaks.

"Ze bug isn’t nearly as fun to mess vith if he’s mopey about his little insect friend. Or are jou not zat different from me in being just as vile." Blitzwing sneers.

"I’m not one of you Cons!"

"Prove it. Apologize," Blitzwing repeats, but with one of his creepier grin, "or **— I MIGHT END UP VITH AN AUTOBOT PANCAKE — **_Oh und sing it to a cherry little tune too ~ HA-Ha-Ha-HAAA! _"

"...Cherry? Do you mean cheery." Clipfly's vox wobbles as he asks for clarification.

"**I KNOW VHAT I SAID!**"

And in the next nanoklik Wasp is having a shaky apology song sung to him by the two bots that used to harass him. Wasp is so shocked with what's happening he doesn't know whether or not to archive it, because this could never happen again, but he doubts he could forget it. When Blitzwing deems it good enough he sends them away, the soft uneasy laughter and chatter of the other Autobots following them out of the commissary. Now the look of pitiful embarrassment is something he'll definitely archive. 

"I didn't think zey vould," Blitzwing says as he watches them go, "Good to know some Autobots can still be intimidated." And any of the low chatter from that event becomes deathly silent.

A touch to his shoulder has Wasp moving out of the way until he sees it's only Bumblebee.

"You doing okay Wasp?"

Still processing the encounter he simply noda, but that seems good enough. Forming a loosely held fist he reaches out and gives Wasp's shoulder a meek tap with a small smile.

"Cool. And don't worry. I got your back if those two try anything again." Bumblebee says sincerely, his optics sadden, but hopeful, "I won't let you down."

"Now vhere vere ve?"

Hearing the menacingly tone combined with the looming shadow Wasp watches as Bumblebee goes from confident to slightly frightened.

"Later. I've got your back later."

A transformation sequence later Bumblebee is peeling out and dodging Blitzwing's attempts to grab him and they're gone the way they came. Waiting to see if they would come back Wasp can only hear the sounds becoming fainter and fainter. Slowly turning to the rest of the Autobots still there they quickly turn away and act as if nothing has happened. Wasp decides to follow their lead and goes to get his energon, but hear a noise. Pausing he hears it again and realizes that it was not only a noise he knew, but one he hadn't hear in a while.

His own laughter.

_Maybe I can have a good solar cycle._

* * *

"GAAHH! Wasp! You gotta stop jumping out at me like you're the booeyman," Bumblebee gasps as he rest his arms on his knees, trying to slow his ventilation, "My fuelpump might burst the next time."

Wasp was going to say something else, but the weird mention draws his attention, "Wasp is not a bogie. I am a mini, not a carriage class."

Bumblebee stops venting before he's frame starts to shake with what Wasp soon realizes is contained laughter. Standing back up he chuckles before turning to him with a grin.

"No, no, not a trainbot it's... Well it's something from Earth that Sari would explain better. It's a spooky thing," He says wiggling his digits in what Wasp assumes is a scary gesture.

"Wasp is good." He says deciding that being ingorant in this case was best.

"Yeah it... it's kinda freaky what humans come up with," But as soon as he says that Bumblebee backtracks, "Not that I'm freaked out by it! I'm just say I wouldn't make fun of you if you didn't want to know." 

Wasp just nods along, trying not to smile, even though Wasp knew better and Bumblebee was in fact scared of this 'bogie-men'.

"So I'm guessing you had something to tell me because you only pop out of the shadows when you have to."

"Jazz taught me," Wasp was proud of that fact. If he could blend in no one could see him to hurt him, "But yes, Wasp has something to tell Bumble. Something to say."

But Wasp finds it's harder than he thought to speak his processor. The glyphs were there, but his confidence was not. 

"Wasp —"

"Thank you... Thank you for... For standing up for Wa—for me yesterday." He whispers miserably, dropping his helm into his servos.

_That was a bad thank you. He won't accept. It —_

"No problem."

Wasp stiffens, at first not believing what he heard, not really, but raising his helm Bumblebee just grins back, though it's softer than before. The disbelief swells into something heavy in his frame. Not a bad feeling like usual, just heavy.

"You're apart of the team and I told you that I'd watch your back and I meant it. But you know, you're still welcome." He says shyly as Wasp continues to stare at Bumblebee in disbelief.

"Wasp, Wasp will watch yours too."

Bumblebee's optics widen before he turning away, scratching at his helm, "Thank Wasp. You - you don't have to, but you have, so thanks."

Wasp can only nod and soon the quietness around them leads to an uneasy atmosphere as he is not sure where to go from this.

"Well now that that sappiness is out of the way, I'm sure Prowl's wondering where we are," Bumblebee announces loudly, startling Wasp, but once he calms down Wasp has to roll his optics at the other's actions. But he was also happy that Bumblebee was defusing the issue, "We've got some blue afts to kick so we better get going before he comes looking for us and the kicked afts are ours."

Taking a step forward, Wasp smiles a little, "Prowl likes Wasp. Bumblebee...," And shrugs as he walks pass as Bumblebee's jaw drops.

Turning around he laughs out loud, "Rude. True, but rude," Before picking up speed and running pass Wasp to the hanger doors, "Come on, dude."

And he does, run to catch up and Wasp feels a bit more hopeful that he could trust Bumblebee a bit. And Wasp thinks he could give Bumblebee a second chance. Or an actual first try. Bumblebee was trying and once Wasp was better **— **

_Maybe later Wasp can forgive Bumblebee too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOT TAKES:  
\- Jazz and Prowl are cute and the least complicated couple. You are welcome.  
\- Blurr and Optimus are catching feels, but only one knows it.  
\- More Sari is never a problem, fight me! (ง •̀_•́)ง  
\- I didn't plan for hints of Blitzbee shenanigans to sneak into this fic, (I happily blame Pastel's art for fully introducing me into this ship) but who knows what will happen now.  
\- History is as interesting as it sucks and now everyone is upset again.  
\- Also Thundercrash looks like [this](https://dragonfly.dk/dragonfly-40). Just think more weapons and he can make his sail optional.  
\- Not really a take, but I am having way too much fun including my own random TFs and other obscure real TFs; Skye-byte needs more [recognition](http://web.archive.org/web/20100919011122/http://yfrog.com/cbpwufj), he's hilarious in both RiD01 & Cyberverse. And Thunderblast is the meanest mean girl from my childhood so I made her meaner. Kinda. Either way there are more to come!  
\- Finally, I'm not rushing Wasp's recovery. He's considering forgiving Bumblebee at a later date.  
  
NOW ONTO THE NEXT CHAPTER! (ﾉ≧∀≦)ﾉ


	14. (“Opportunity”);

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a lot of emotions ran high in September and a lot of emotions got poured into this chapter resulting in a 23k monster. I personally couldn’t handle reading that long of a chapter when proofreading so I broke it in half where there was a good stopping point and made this one it's own. It worked better this way and ya’ll get a makeup chapter, Win-win!  


"I thought Autobots were supposed to protect all life!" Sari screams as Excee Major turns his back, clearly not done with the argument they started.

Their first battle had not gone as planned, but thankfully it wasn't disastrous. Their inability to at least be civil about their situation caused them to lose more land and backed up to Rebirth Base so much that it was almost in a sieged position.

The problem stemmed from a divide of a few of the Autobots being fine with the Decepticon aid, seeing that after their previous defeats something new was needed. But most had been stubbornly refusing to accept the relief, though it was hypocritical of Prowl to look down on them as he was still against this agreement, more so after find out what it hinged on. But at a time like this they needed to set aside pain to survive and if that meant 'defending' the Decepticons - to a point - he would. Doing it in front of half of the army was not ideal though, even if the Major in charge was eroding away all his patience.

"I know they aren't great. I mean yeah, they're big, scaring looking, and break things way too easily, but they’re helping you fight this war. I was told it was an Autobot’s programming to protect life at all cost? So besides your own doesn’t that included Decepticons because of what’s going on,” Sari yells at the fuming Major, “But instead you're leaving them to take the hits - You're acting like there's nothing else to them."

Excee's frown morphs into a cruel sneer as he said, "There isn't." 

Before Prowl could even wrap him mind around that derisive statement Sari is standing, her weak field battering his.

"How would you know! Did you ever talk to them?"

"I don't need to, to know what I know." Excee answers smoothly.

"Well that's just glitched."

While Prowl does not gasp, like the rest of their audience, at Sari’s language his does turn to her in surprise. Her eyes shine even as they narrow into slits and she shakes in fury trying not to launch herself at the doorwinged mech. Furious at the insult Excee actually turns red as his vent start to steam.

"You can't know something if you haven't learned anything about those people." 

"Sari," Wasp whispers frighten as his optics dart around to the surrounding ‘friendly’ army.

"You don't know anything." Ellipse Minor bites out as she stalks forward, but one sharp glare from him and she stops short.

"She knows more than you." Bumblebee pipes up, angry for his best friend.

"How would a minicon now more than a trained Minor?"

"Well for one I've been in multiple battles when the Decepticons landed on my planet and they were the real deal. Starscream, Lugnut, Blitzwing - oh and you know Megatron! Leader of the Cons. And two, I'm living around them right now like a few buildings over," With an annoyed sigh she leans against Prowl’s helmet, her field softer than before, but still irate, "Look, I'm not saying they're not bad, I thought the same thing a couple months back and they prove they could be very bad, but besides the occasional arguments and fights most of the new Cons I've meet are pretty chill."

"That may be, but you weren't there for the Great War." Ellipse counters.

"Well were you?" Bumblebee asks, throwing her question back at them, "Either of you?"

They both pauses to look at each other, likely not expecting Bumblebee to say something so intelligent. Prowl himself was always surprised when this occurred.

"No."

"Have you ever fought a Decepticon?"

"No." They answer through gritted denta.

"Well we have and let me say I'd rather fight those blue freaks instead of going pede to pede with the Cons again."

Bumblebee announces and turns to smile and give Sari a thumbs up, which she returns. But Excee wasn’t out of this argument yet and opens his intake to say something else inflammatory, but Prowl cuts in to put him in his place.

"I lived through the Great War," He says, his sharp tone catching everyone’s attention, "That means it would be my grudge to hold not yours. If you had then you'd have more reason to hate them, but you did not."

"There is."

"What exactly, and don't say evil because that doesn't explain anything." Prowl asks, exasperated with the Major since he started ranting at him about his failure to handle the Decepticons.

"We're better than them."

"How?!" Sari screeches, surging from her perch to hover menacingly over the Major and Minor, "Because from what I've learned about them is that they're just as intelligent as the Autobots, they have a functioning government and – Get this! - they transform just like you! Yeah, looks may be deceiving, but they are literally Transformers like you. Exactly like you!" 

With each statement she begins to glow from every tiny joint breach in her armor until she's as bright as the Allspark when it would awaken. Prowl is speechless and too awed to react, but between one nanoklik and the next she's back to normal, though not without full rapt and perplexed attention.

Glancing over to Bumblebee he finds the same look of concern at Sari’s possible new upgrade, though for now she looked the same.

But as the silent staredown continues Prowl is given a moment to replay what Sari had been arguing and realizes that he was acting similar to the Major and Minor.

Prowl knew there was more to the Cons, he couldn’t ignore it when being in close quarters. But he also hadn't been giving any real thought about the individuals instead of the collective mistrust of them. And he had been standing next to Optimus when he made a similar plead on Vehicon to the Autobots there. Prowl agreed with the concept, agreed with it for Optimus' and all their sakes, yet had not realized he wasn’t trying to put it into practice. Yes, he took part in somewhat accepting the Decepticons during missions and when he was sharing space with them, but at the same time he was internally demonizing them regardless of how they acted towards him.

"She is right," Hearing the shuffling of metal Prowl looks away from Sari to the thousands of optics trained on him, "They're a bit more explosive with their emotions, but they talk about mundane things too. Worry about their fellow bot in their own way. And right now they're more willing to protect a planet they haven't been on in more than four million stellar cycles. What does that say about us? We are being given a chance to save our home and you are all being less than reluctant. All of you are being out right insufferable and it is costing you more. Weren't 40,000 casualties enough?" Prowl asks harshly as most optics turn away from his, "You can despise them all you want, but put it aside for now and on the battlefront."

"Have you," Excee hisses, his spiteful field filling the short distance between them, "Have you put your concerns aside when your own Prime is suffering at the servos of the Slagmaker himself."

Growling and rumbling engines from his younger teammates forces Prowl to keep his own emotions in check.

"Anything you heard about something sordid going on is a lie and a rumor that needs to be crushed. Optimus Prime is perfectly fine and is _not_ participating in or has been coerce into anything Ultra Magnus and Megatron didn't agree on prior." 

"That's not what I heard." Excee sneers.

"Then you heard wrong," Prowl counters coolly, "Show me some facts and I might consider your lie, but it's unlikely." 

"See, they are the enemy." Ellipse Minor tries to defend their stance, but Sari is quickly in her space.

"Ugh! Stop repeating yourself!" Sari snaps, "Last time I checked they weren't the ones we were fighting!"

"They'll turn on us when they have the chance." Ellipse insists.

"I mean if you make them think that they might." Bulkhead adds, but the concept of cause and effect seems lost on the Minor. 

"On my planet they say if you don't learn from your past you're bound to repeat it," Sari says loudly to the crowd, "If you think the Decepticons are evil because 'they are' then tell me why? If you know why you can stop it from happening again, so why are they evil?"

But no one speaks up. The bots Prowl could see clearly look up at Sari with a mix of upset and perplexed expressions.

"It's just dumb that you think the worse of them when you haven’t had time to get to know them."

Optics narrowing, Excee flares his armor, his doorwings hiking higher, "You are only here as a courtesy."

"Yes, by the Magnus. And you're putting together an awful reception," Prowl snarks. But when he sees the resulting petrified looks Prowl realizes the small amount of influence he has. So he reminds the base of it, "If you don't - if all of you don't - shape up I believe that will be your fault."

And with that Prowl turns to leave. The mecha standing between him and the hallway split apart, letting him and his team leave peacefully, silent and unsettled as they watch them leave. No one from their team talks as they trek across the base to the Decepticon's side and with the topic and the outcome Prowl is not surprised in the least.

"Hey guys," Glancing back to Sari, who had perched herself on Bulkhead's shoulder, she looks down before meeting their optics, "Thanks for backing me up in there. I know it couldn't be easy... You know ancient enemy and all."

"I'm not really liking these bots," Bumblebee shrugs, "The ones on Floron were way cooler."

"Not a problem Sari," Bulkhead agrees, "You're our friend and, well, you made some good points that even I didn't think about. At all! But why'd you get so upset?" 

Huffing, she slumps against Bulkhead's helm, "That Major was saying it was Thundercrash's fault for their side falling apart. But I could see from the cannons Excee wasn't giving them any support. He doesn't get to blame this lost on someone else because he didn't do anything... He didn't do anything."

Stopping, Prowl turns fully to her and even with all her armor she was still the small, precocious, and too young girl they had befriended. Her new frame did nothing to take away her innocence, not like how this war and the hatred between their two factions did.

"Also Thundercrash is a friend now and I always stick up for my friends." She says softly and Prowl can tell she doesn't regret what she said. And despite the circumstances he is proud of her.

"As you should," His dermas lifting only a centimeter to let her know, "I think we all deserve an early rest tonight."

As they get closer to the hangers Bumblebee is already talking to Bulkhead and Wasp about projecting this wacky movie he and Sari loved. Apparently Sari had packed it along with a few other movies and Prowl knew if he wanted any rest he was going to have to find Shatterstorm. They were good with machines and could probably rig something up so he wouldn't have to be the projector and sit through the silly films.

And that gave Prowl pause. He hadn't realized he had been meshing so easily with the Cons that he was willing to seek them out. He should have know better as an Autobot, but like Sari had so eloquently said looks can be deceiving and getting to know the individuals were more important.

"Prowl?" Bringing his focus back to the present he sees Sari floating in front of him, clearly concern, "Are you okay? You kinda stopped in the middle of the hall and... well yeah."

"I'm fine. And Sari, that was very brave of you to speak up like that. What you said was right."

"About what?"

"A variety of topics. Ones I hadn't thought about before even though they had been brought up. Thank you." He tells her and feels lighter when her eyes squint like she was smiling and her weaker field pulses with pride and happiness.

"No problem!"

* * *

The following decacycles were interesting to say the least.

With their reinforcements detained trying to fight through a blockade on one of the outer planets Rebirth Base was forced to spend more time around the Decepticons. And while Prowl saw many were still disgruntled about this on both sides, he also saw a few mechas go from angry to hesitant then mildly curious around the Cons that would come into the commissary.

The culprit for 'why' seemed to be not only Sari's chewing out, but one of the intel tech had been picking up the systematic release of summarizations about warframes from a few orbital cycles ago with links to the Hall of Records. With the curiosity, or guilt, pushing them forward the counter for the viewership added each solar cycle as the summarizations made it to them. They not only explained the culture, but admitted when they didn't understand certain facets or have records of it. They also presented that the Decepticons came from a protective class, not a warrior one, but changed to one as the best way to protect its culture and way of life.

Prowl couldn’t say that he had seen any of them out right protect someone, defending a base or a ship he had seen. It was the same determination that he had seen in Autobots trying to protect others. Blunt and brutish they were still similar to how the Autobots fundamentally behaved. 

But personal experiences aside, Prowl was not one for politics, but even he could tell this was a breach of security. What was stopping whoever was doing this from spreading something more important? But that paranoia quickly left his thoughts as he got ahold of the link to the Base's Grid where these summaries were posted. Reading over it, it was constructed more like a history pad. Prowl concluded that if this shadowy figure was going through the trouble to get into the Archives that they would show off important info first instead of something that could help create a united front. It was still concerning, but when should more knowledge ever be considered so.

It was good for the army at large as there was partial mingling with the passing Decepticons into the middle ground of the base instead of the usual silence and adverted optics.

Shatterstorm had quickly become a favorite of the technicians with their Earth-gremlin love for dismantling and building equipment from scratch. Prowl is sure they had unknowingly stolen a couple of the technicians' sparks, who could care less that they were a Decepticon when they increased the power of the forcefields. And the medics didn't care about who their patients were, especially Crossflare, Wasp's new psychiatrist. He had a demeanor of a younger Ratchet and tried to fight a Con missing an arm when he had tried to negate care. With a war cry of 'You idiot! Let me fix you!' and brandishing a scalpel the Decepticon had been so impressed, or confused, that he had let him put on a patch so he could work on the arm. 

Meanwhile, the executive staff were receiving a crash course of sorts in getting along.

Excee and Thundercrash were still at each other’s throat tubing, but each time they begrudgingly came to an agreement right when they all needed it most.

Sky-Byte on the other hand had a captive audience in the Minors and instead of discussing tactics he was usually spinning energetic stories of his past that had the Minors staring at the submarine in concern and bewilderment. The Decepticon captains present just rolled their optics and a few tried to correct him. This led to them all excluding the commander to talk about said exaggerated tales and comparing the history of it, a weird sort of bonding for them all.

Seeing another such meeting go that way as Sky-Byte sulked in a corner, Prowl’s derma quirk up briefly. He thinks about how Optimus would have taken this and how happy he'd might be to see their two sides actively trying to find some middle ground, as rough as it might be. Perhaps they could work and stand together.

And perhaps that possibility extends to living on the same planets as well some solar cycle.

"Oh Prowler." Jazz gasps as soon as he sees Prowl.

Every line of his frame was tense and lined with exhaustion. And if he looked close enough there was a fresh weld along his right shoulderstruct. His spark riles at seeing Prowl injured and unable to do anything else to soothe the pain.

"How long has it been?" He asks as he leans closer to the screen.

"Three and a half decacycles," Prowl sighs, "But our reinforcements should be arriving in the next two solar cycles. How long has it been since we left?"

Disbelief couldn’t even cover the motion his tanks went through at the answer, "Prowl, it has been eight solar cycles. Four since we all last talked."

His olfactory sensor crinkles up in displeasure before sighing, “It is odd to be reminded that time is a nebulous concept in such a way. I'm not sure how to handle such a fact."

"Yeah it's wild," Jazz had the stats, but even that didn't help with being presented the facts, "But talking about handling issues, how are the bots there?"

"Some are easier to approach than others." He says smoothly.

But Jazz can read between the lines and he can hear the annoyed tone of Prowl's real answer in his mind. It would basically be along the lines of 'they're mostly petty and I hate it here'. Jazz wish he could be there with a comforting hug or —

Just then a sound of something heavy slamming into a wall is closely followed by a clattering of smaller objects that lasted too long to be a coincidence. While it startles Jazz, Prowl remains quietly dignified.

"Wipe that smug aft grin off your stupid fangs!"

"Don't valk away from me! Jou started zis."

"Oh I'm _sooo_ sorry that this wasn't brazen enough for you!"

"**I DIDN'T SAY ZAT JOU MISERABLE LITTLE BUG!**"

"But your faces said it."

"**VHICH ONE!?**"

As the yelling peters off Jazz is left speechless, but finds enough curiosity to ask, "Was that Blitzwing and Bumblebee?"

Frowning, Prowl nods tiredly, "It has... become a thing now."

"You don’t say. We’ve been having that too." Jazz as he leans back onto the desk, to be closer to Prowl in some way.

"I’m almost afraid to ask." Prowl says as his frown becomes more pronounced.

"Well on the bright side Optimus has been pain free because of it."

"That is good news."

"Well..."

Prowl's sharp visor gains an edge as he asks lowly, "What’s going on?"

"Lets just say a certain warlord has been helping on that front," Getting a confused look Jazz explains, "Megs hasn't been too thrilled with a wandering firetruck."

"He’s not supposed to be moving around too much yet." 

"Has OP ever been a bot to slow down and wait?" Jazz asks wryly.

"He never could," Prowl agrees and his frown become prominent again, "But you said he was keeping himself safe. This sounds like the opposite. Hasn't there's been anything you could do to stop him?"

"Nothin’ on that front," He had had more success with the small worries that Optimus had come to him about in recent solar cycles, but getting that mech to relax was something else, "Surprisingly, Megatron’s got that all covered."

"As you stated," Prowl states suspiciously, "How exactly?"

Jazz can see the other is tensed with worry, but in this instant he didn't need to be.

"By picking him up and taking him back to his quarters."

Prowl stares impassively at him for a shockingly long time before his dermas thin and his visor wilts.

"...He is not."

A short laugh shakes his frame at Prowl's response and Jazz nods 'yes' to confirm, "Scoops him right up and leaves with him. OP spends the whole time telling him to put him down so he can get back to work."

With a soft 'Oh Optimus' Prowl rests his helm in one of his servos and shakes his helm, the quietest of laughs leaving him. And Jazz soaks it all up, happy he was able to bring some peace to Prowl which has been sorely needed for the other cyber-ninja.

The rest of the short call was spent talking about the team's well-being and Wasp's hesitant trips to a psychiatrist. Also about Sari endearing herself to the Decepticons with her small size, but powerful and varied weapons. Prowl even swears a few cooed over 'her tininess and destructiveness', claiming she was perfect. But much too soon their time was up as the _Talon_ would be leaving range and the planet would be going through one of it's radio dead phase due to the bizarre atmosphere.

"I'll miss you, like always," Jazz tells him softly as the counter reaches one cycle.

Prowl's dermas part, but no glyphs are heard at his veiled confession and Prowl turns his helm away, dermas twisted in indecision. Jazz curses himself for pushing too much as he sees that Prowl is obviously torn. He only wanted to let Prowl know how much he meant to him.

"And I you," At first he wasn't sure he had heard the soft voice answering, but looking back he sees Prowl's shoulder armor sagging down and his expression open, but forlorn, "I miss your presence as well... I hope to see you soon."

Smiling in return at the tiny one he had gotten, as melancholy as it was, Jazz can't help to be bolstered by it, "Count on it Prowler. Count on it."

Just as the smile gains more strength the comm. fizzes out into static before snapping off completely and plunging the room into lonely silence.

Slumping in the chair Jazz feels like half of his spark is missing, as cliché as it sounded. Now he was missing Prowl even more knowing that Prowl missed him as well. Backing away and standing is harder this time around as he had no where to be and the itching need to try and contact Prowl again presses on him. Deciding his restless lovestruck energy would be better suited working he decides to go to Intel. He had been working on mapping out all the halls and duct ways of a Qidried's heavy cruiser and destroyer as his current project because one never knew when a broadside might turn into a boarding.

In leaving Jazz is presented with a sight that was becoming more common, though he hears them long before he sees them. The clank of fists against armor first before the glyphs overshadowing it.

"Megatron. Please," Optimus stresses, "I can walk the rest of the way. I could have even stood in the elevator."

"And risk you escaping? I think not." 

"I wasn't — I was doing my work. Work you gave me!"

"In the starboard bay. Not your quarters or the office I so kindly gave to you. I believe my feelings are hurt Little Prime." Megatron taunts.

Optimus' scoff turns into a harsh laugh, "As if! You derive pleasure from this."

"Just enough." A soft chuckle follows.

As Megatron turns the corner his smug mug comes into view and under his arm Jazz can see Optimus' blue aft and silver legs dangling loose as it seems Prime had given up struggling again. Megatron inclines his helm in greeting and Jazz returns the nod, though still finds the fact jarring that the Autobots' greatest enemy was capable of civility.

But as the warlord passes by Jazz can see Optimus and, well, he can sees him too.

A grin twitches at the edge of his dermas at first when seeing Optimus with his crossed arms and a pout that looked more at home on a sparkling, but when their optics meet Optimus' grow twice as wide as his expression and arms drops.

Jazz doesn't make it any better when he gives the young leader a little wave.

Flushing navy, Optimus covers his face and groans in disappointment and Jazz takes his cue to leave for the elevator. Just making it around the corner he hears the swatting and scratching start up again, but it doesn't phase Megatron in the slightest as he laughs it off, deep voice echoing down the halls.

"What are all these yellow points? And why are they always in a diamond pattern?" 

"Does she have to be here?"

_Act serious Sari. Don't do anything stupid._

Looking up, Excee Major frowns more as he locks glares with her over the hologram table, the bright blue making his stupid face look even uglier. It really makes her want to make a face or flick him off, but Sari knew she couldn't.

Firstly, there was no breathable air so she couldn't take the battlemask off. Secondly, Prowl would make her leave if she did anything childish. Thirdly, she wanted to prove she was capable to helping and that could only happen if she acted like her accelerated and not her actual age. Though that didn't help in the grand scheme of things when everyone around was over a million years old. But it was important for them to claim more land so they would have half of the planet back under their control again.

"Is she causing a problem?" Prowl asks coolly.

"Not yet." He sneers.

"I would like to know what those yellow points are too," Leaning closer to the sims-table Thundercrash taps on one of the yellow markers, "I don't see any ID marker for them."

Excee's left eye twitches as his face scrunch up more and more, especially when the he turns back to her. It seemed that Major Jerk wasn't too fond of Thundercrash indulging her because they were friends now, but it was something Sari could get used. If she was going to learn about Cybertron she needed to know each side so she could understand what happened. And becoming friends with Thundercrash was great as he was a great source and a fun one too.

"They're Rebirth Base's AAG, atmospheric and gravity, generators," Avalon Prime explains while giving a stink eye to the Excee.

"Thank you Avalon," She says to the teal Prime before turning to give Excee a haughty grin from behind the safety of her mask.

Having fought with Cons before she was more open to talking with Thundercrash than Excee. But she was not used to this personal feud between the two and after a month of it she was getting fed up. Bringing up a model scale of one she points out that they kept the planet's rapid and hazardous atmospheric changes to a minimum. Something definitely needed when the gravity cut off like a phone with bad service. Bulkhead had told Sari this was one of the main planets that fabricated parts for Space Bridges and that they used these generators to make moving the dense materials easier.

"And these weren't going to be mentioned at all?" Sky-Byte hisses with way too many teeth.

"They weren't important. They have space cruiser force fields for protection."

"And those work so well," Sky-Byte deadpans, "Do you have any other constructive criticism to add."

"They work well enough! And these aren't important to —" 

"What's the gravity at usually?" Sari interrupts Excee as she leaps off Prowl's shoulder to get a better look at the detailed scale model, "Is it the same as Cybertron?"

When she gets a few confused looks Sari explains her point, "Like in comparison to Cybertron does the gravity feel like a burden or not."

"It's similar, about two hundredths difference. This planet is smaller than Cybertron, but solid, while Cybertron is layered and forty-five percent hollow," Synergy Major, Avalon Prime's second, explains, "But the size still gives it it's gravity of 17.614 m/n²." 

"Does anyone know the Qidried's planet gravity?" Sari asks looking up.

With a huff Excee rolls his eyes and folds his arms, "Why does it matter?" 

_Could you be anymore of a tool? You're almost as bad as Sentinel. _

Sari rolls her eyes right back, which seems to bother him more as his plating flares up. That immediately causes both Thundercrash and Sky-Byte to growls in a low tone, but it's Avalon that delivers the devastating blow.

"Excee Major. Leave your hostiles for the battlefield and the 'current' enemy. Or you will leave this room, is that understood?" She asks evenly, her tone sub-zero as she spares him a sharp glare before looking back to the sims-table.

Jerking back like he's just been hit, his shoulder bunch forward and he clenches his fists before gritting out, "19.614 m/n²."

_Now that's more like it._

Sari thinks triumphantly as she looks to the rest of her audience, "Thanks. So how much weight can you all take?"

"The average would be twenty tons, but some of our strongest can take thirty," Sky-Byte preens, "That's the average from normal to high gravity planets."

"We can handle fifteen." Avalon adds and the more she hear the more Sari thinks she's got a good plan.

"How quickly can the Qids adapt?

"It still takes them a cycle and a half. We can use that to our advantage," Thundercrash states and flashes her a dastardly grin, "And if what I think you're going for lighter to heavy metals holds up better than bones breaking and snapping."

Everyone looks thoughtfully over the plan, even Excee, but he is still the first one to complain about it, "They could be, but manual control would be needed and we wouldn't be able to keep up." 

Relieved that was the only problem he had with her plan Sari reassures all of them that it was indeed possible.

"That's not a problem. I can ask the system to do the rapid change. And if you all are willing to take a few dents I can give you a heads up as I'm doing it. The Qids can't keep up with thirty second changes right?"

"You can... ask it?" Avalon asks.

The Prime looked so confused, which was weird from her usual stern expression, that Sari has to catch herself so she doesn't laugh. It wasn't her fault that she didn't understand what Sari was talking about. 

"Sure! It isn't hard," And raising her hands she waits until all the bots lean forward so she can extend her hands at the joints, "I got it all under control."

"Impressive," Avalon breathes softly as she leans in closer.

"There is a problem with this."

At hearing his negative voice again Sari can't help dropping her head back and groaning. But when she catches Prowl's disappointed look she quickly shapes up. Turning back to Excee's direction he smiles smugly at her.

"Even if that works no one could sustain under those pressure. Sure we wouldn't break or go offline, but we couldn't move." 

"We could," Turning to Sky-Byte he winks at her and gives a very unsubtle thumbs-up, "Decepticon armor is much more robust. Build for more duress." Sky-Byte says haughtily, an inherent dig if ever Sari heard one.

But as usual Excee was not impressed, "And what would you do? Carry us over to drop the bombs?"

"If our forces had a head start while the Qidreid's were adapting we could make it closer than a forward attack," Avalon says as she begins messing with the board so the hardlight figures move pass Sari in waves of red with purple towards the attack blue, "And we wouldn't have to worry about the bomb since they're not pressure sensitive. With each pressure increase we could add a new wave and then hold our ground there and move forward with frontal support."

"That's if we can trust you." Excee mumbles, but it was loud enough for everyone could hear.

But there was a pause that filled Sari with more worried than she though was possible before Prowl steps forward with Downshift, Ellipse, and Metro, the black and green femme from before.

"You can trust me - Us - And I'm know there will be others that will to," Ellipse says as she looks down to her with a look of apology before looking back to Avalon, "The rest can protect the base, we still have the numbers."

Sari smiles back and does a little dance at her speech getting through to most of the base and was now helping everyone be a bit more trusting. Even if it's the rockiest agreement Sari can tell this is a turning point, she could feel it in her Tironium bonded bones. Now she just hoped it held.

"Then I think we can make this plan work," Avalon Prime declares with finality as she glance over to the other second most obnoxious bot in the world, "What say you Excee Major?"

He frowns but with a low sigh he looks the plan over before throwing a hand out to Thundercrash to shakes. And if he looks very self-satisfied with himself Thundercrash deserved it. As Avalon and Synergy start assigning groups Sari hops back onto Prowl's shoulder and is at the prefect height to see Thundercrash wink at her and can feel Prowl's pride in her actions. Even if no one can see she can't get the giant smile she has off her face and with how well everyone was taking her idea who could blame her.

Blitzwing usually had no problem lying.

Either by omission or lack of concentration he wouldn't tell the truth. But if asked about today's battle he would admit he was wholly surprised _that the tiny Autobot companion actually came up with a good plan!_ More over that base Autobots trusted them enough to let him and his fellow Decepticons hold them close in their arduous trek across the crystal dust terrain. **But he was strong enough that it didn't even bother him and he could have done it ten more times!**

They had crushed a third of the opposition even before the Qidrieds took out the shields for the AAGs, but not for the base. It had thrown the battlefield to the mercy of the half-there atmosphere of the planet. They had all adapted well enough while their enemy was on a learning curve and a disastrous one at that.

He had just flipped **a far less superior tank** on its side and had ripped the bottom hull out _to get to the squishy bits inside_ when he got the message from Commander Thundercrash.

[[ C.R.A.T.E.R. ]]

Immediately calls to fall back and cries of ‘Crater incoming!’ were being holler across the battlefield as jets and heavy vehicles retreated. A_nd when the big bad cyberwolf runs away, little scared Autobots do to._ **Why did they have to do this now! They always ruined his fun! He was nanokliks from crushing those worthless bits of flesh** —

"Hey Blitzbrain!"

Looking down he sees Bumblebee and his doppelganger speeding in time under him.

"What does that mean? I didn’t see any crater. What are you Cons running from?"

"**I’M NOT RUNNING AWAY FROM ZE FIGHT JOU STUPID IDIOT!**" He yells down at the two, "It’s a zafety precaution. And to answer jour question it means zat POKE und STEP iz imminent."

"POKE?" Wasp asks confused while Bumblebee shouts more alarmed, "STEP?! What the hell is that?!"

As they make it to the crest of the sand dunes and out of the detonation range everyone can see the _Kalis’ Lament_ descending, but stopping short as two tiny, _though it's really the biggy biggest of the big_, fall toward the ground and spell certain doom for the mindless cheering alien masses below that believe they'd won this conflict.

As they pick up speed they almost look like a meteor and if he zoomed in Blitzwing is sure he can see Lugnut daintily holding General Strika’s servo in his non-transformed pincer. Such apocalyptic romantics.

The impact lays a hush over the battlefield before the smelter tank punch of a double shockwave knocks anyone shorter than himself over. It blows the insects away, or would have if he hadn’t caught them. Holding them securely under his arms Blitzwing turns as the roaring wall of dust like a Urayai ionstorm scratches over them in a howling wind.

Opening his vents and puffing out he dislodges any of the crystal sand and watches_ as a super neato surprises shows up!_ **If they had come sooner they would have laid waste to all the wretched morphing freaks that thought they had the metal to go against them!**

His team descends down in the four principle directions and lay a punishing strip of cover fire. This gives the Commanders the cue for the Decepticons to rejoin the unfinished battle

"Decepticons! Rise up and conquer!" Thundercrash cries out before transforming and taking off towards the smoldering battlefield with the first wave Decepticons following closely.

They are joined belatedly by the Autobots, looking dazed and frighten beyond belief at what they saw, but knows there is more at stack then their tiny feelings.

"Damn how did we hold our own in the war?" Bumblebee whispers as stares at the destruction General Strika and Lugnut had brought, his double looking equally terrified.

"I am always vondering about zat too," He says as he watches the pale yellow sky above before he gets several pings. Dropping Bumblebee faceplates first and setting Wasp down he grins, "Excuse me. I'm needed."

Jumping into the air and transforming he corkscrews up into the thick of the aerial battle and begins corralling and shooting out thrusters to cause safe crashes for the combatants to rounded up for interrogation and whatever Intel and Science Departments decide on. Sideswiping one he almost crashes into Sandstorm, which should be impossible with his bright orange sticking out like a dirty diamond. Stabilizing after the near-crash he follows him down in a corkscrew, pulling up in enough time to transform and land without too much trouble.

"**VATCH VHERE JOUR GOING! JOU ALMOST HIT ME!** — _You could have damaged me before my close up._"

With a punch to the shoulderstructs Sandstorm keels over in laughter as three more mecha land heavily behind him.

"Good to see you Blitzwing." His Commander grins before giving him a friendly elbow jab.

"Yeah! Great to see ya Blitzy. We almost missed ya and your hilarious ways." Sandstorm adds when he finally finds his vox.

"Hilarious," He deadpans as Checkpoint steps up next to him and they knock elbow joints and he turns to Octane for a double fist bump, "As if they aren't as bad as your regular personality."

"Yet you're still here. And for the pose too." Sandstorm grins as he stands up.

"I may not approve of zis, but it would be horrible to ruin it now after zo many stellar cycles."

They do pose for image captures. It is a stupid tradition to pose at every battle they're in because of something to deal with memories or the other. At this point it had been happening too long for Blitzwing to remember or care.... even if he did enjoy it just a tad.

"You do care!" Octane cheers as he gets in his pose of flexing his arms above his helm.

"Yes yes. It vas rage's turn correct?" Blitzwing brushes it off as his Commander pulls his swords out as he launches the tiny image drone.

"You know it," Checkpoint grins as crouches, claws posed to kill, "Show me your game face."

"What... are they doing?" Prowl asks, but he was worried for the answer because it looked like —

"Are they... posing? For a picture?" Bulkhead asks titling his helm to one side, scratching it in confusion.

"Unfortunately."

Prowl wasn't as startled as Bulkhead, who jumps at the sudden answer, but turning around Prowl sees it's only Thundercrash, who looks unbelievably bored at the scene.

"Its normal and you will eventually get used to it."

Looking away from the dispersing Triple Changers he sees the other Autobot ship he was looking for, a the distance Omega Supreme. Thundercrash must see it too as he turns to him with a sadden grin. He had been kind enough to let Prowl use his stronger comm. system to contact Ratchet about picking up Sari.

"Tell Sari she has done well if I cannot step away from duties to do so," He goes to turn back to the _Lament_, but stops to turn back, "And tell your other Autobots they did well."

"I will." Prowl promises.

With a farewell nod he transforms and sails off towards Strika's descending ships. Looking back to the Triple Changers once more, for which he's glad for, he notices that the leader of Strike Squadron was using well-honed and practiced moves that would only be learn at the Dojo. The way he welds his lightsabers and the more modern techniques that he had been taught by Master Yoketron, he knows he’s not wrong. Prowl hadn't expected to met another cyber-ninja out here and especially not a Decepticon, but he could be another possible lead for his search on lavender optics.

But he can't let anyone know yet. 

"Everything seems to be under controlled now." Prowl comments as only a few scattered fights were still in progress, but nothing as grand scaled as half a megacycle ago.

"So what should we do?" Bulkhead asks turning to him.

"You should make sure Sari is still okay and get her ready to ship out. I will find out from our forces what is needed from us."

"But isn't Ratchet at Elba."

"He's being redeployed to Cybertron and is already here," Prowl literally points out as Omega Supreme lands in the distant, "Can you make sure she's ready to go so we can send her off properly. If it's me she'll make a fuss."

"Sure thing Prowl," Bulkhead says with an over excited salute before transforming and driving off, "You can count on me."

Shaking his head fondly Prowl makes his way over to where the head Triple Changer had won his battles. Prowl knows of them at a distance, but had never met them personally or seen their leader. At most he had seen the hulking Octane and the brightly colored Sandstorm in passing. He was concern with approaching them, even if Optimus described them as being far more 'lenient' towards new comers, he only hoped that his connection to the Dojo will work. 

Before Prowl could call out to him the leader turns around and Prowl's jaw drops in pure shock as the other's optics widen a great deal.

"You have lavender optics." He whispers to himself. 

"Master!" The other cyber-ninja bows appropriately, "I did not know another had been chosen after... his untimely passing. What are you doing on the battlefield?" He asks rising from his bow.

Gathering his thoughts Prowl returns the bow before answering, "I’m sorry, you are mistaken. I’m not the Master of the Dojo."

"Then how do you..."

But he doesn't finish the question as he advances, reaching for his sheathed swords, optics becoming glaringly bright violet.

"Wait!" Jumping out of range Prowl throws his servos out in surrender, and thankfully the mech listens, "I know what this looks like but it’s wrong. It is a long story, but I promise it wasn’t me that killed Master Yoketron. I ran into his murderer and was only able to reclaim the helmet in our fight."

His optics narrow as he scrutinizes him, but in the end he lets go of the hilt of his swords, "Likely story. I hope you can explain yourself fast."

"Thank you. I will explain, but first I wanted —"

"AAA HA HA HAA!"

Prowl had never describe laughter as violent, but glancing to his right when it happens again he can't deny that is the only way to describe it.

Above a large seeker swings a flying Qidried around multiple times before she winds up and spikes them towards the ground. So hard in fact that they bounced off the brittle ground twice before she lands heavily on their chest and turning around to kick an incoming Qidried. The force shatters their helmet, and as they go down three more come towards her, but she shoots them down with her shoulder cannons. Stepping off the first downed Qidried she dust off her servos before jumps into the air to do a flip spin and land next to the Triple Changer leader. Taking a step back from the other unknown and bleeding Triple Changer, Prowl is surprised by how closely she resembles a heavy Seeker class, but she had the same marks behind and around her Decepticon symbol that proved she was of the rare frame type.

"Springer! The General needs you to —"

"Checkpoint. Your ..." And points down at her left arm.

"Oh this? This is fine. I’m only missing part of my arm and... thirty-six percent of my back kibble," She says with a smile as her wings shuffle behind her, "The Qidrieds are all missing their bodies. You would think with them being as tall as General Strika they put up a better fight. Oh! And don't worry at least two of the higher rankers are still in one piece, I think Octane has them all packaged up for Tripline and Blackarachina." 

Then noticing his presence she turns to him and pops one curvaceous hip to the side and smiles widely. Her grin shows off her minor gap denta smile, but also sharpen denta that looked eerily similar. But when her visor slides up Prowl is in for his second surprise of the solar cycle.

"You have them too," He whispers and at the twin looks of confusion he says louder, "You have lavender optics too."

In an instant both look shocked and alarmed, neither the paragons of destruction and wrath.

"Right... um ...You didn’t see anything?" Checkpoint asks nervously.

Speechless at that response Prowl watches silently as the panic that surrounded Springer morphs into embarrassment as he slaps a servo over his face, much to Checkpoint’s chagrin.

"Shut up! I panicked!" Looking back to him her expression screams of desperation, "Hey. So. If you just don’t mention this. It would be great —"

"Do they change back to red? Back to blue? How did you come by them?" Questions spill pass his dermas as he had finally found other mechas that could give him a clear answer to what he had been worrying about.

But before he could think of more concise questions he notices their uncomfortable looks.

"That's a secret to asks a higher-up about, but I would highly suggest against it," Springer sneers, bitterly and vacant. But Prowl could see he had the same sharpen denta, "Now if you excuse us, we need to help with roundup still." Before jumping into the air and transforming into a nacelle hoverer and flying off.

Turning to Checkpoint she quickly covers the distance between them and grabs hold of his right shoulder, locking him in place. Once she can see he can't move her dermas split into a creepy grin that could rival Blitzwing’s.

"This is a secret between us, okay?" His failure to answer immediately leads to her turning her helm slowly to the left as her optics brighten, grin growing to show off her dentea fully. Nodding, along her smile becomes more civil as she’s leans back, "Good. And I’ll leave you with this. We know we look great with them." And with a sly wink, she too jumps into the air and transforms into a stealth jet.

Watching them go - and being out of immediate danger - his processor tries to organize all the data and the only thing it can thread and connect was that their dentea were the same as Optimus. Sharp, but not fangs, but most assuredly not flat and completely deadly. But how could this be? Optimus wasn't a Triple Changer. He was just as surprised as the rest of them when Blitzwing landed in Detroit. And he was the average height for a smaller convey class mech so there was no way he could have space for extra mass or kibble. And on top of that —

"Hn!"

Spinning around with his servos clutching his throwing discs Prowl is relieved to find a friendly face and not a hostile one.

"Woah! You okay?" Jazz steps back, servos up in surrender.

"I-I'll be fine, I think," Prowl fights to put his systems in some semblances of order, "What are you doing here though? I - we weren't expecting you."

Dermas twitching up until a small smirk Jazz places a servo on his right pauldron, "Maybe I couldn't get enough of your smooth voice." 

"I think you have the wrong mech." He says, but indulges the joke as he rest his own servo over Jazz's.

"Something for Intel. Would have sent Blurr, but they wanted somebot with higher clearance," Jazz admits with a roll of his shoulders, "Heard from Bulkhead you were out this way and came to see you."

Prowl hears what is said and hums in agreement, but his processor was still a million lightyears away thinking about his nearly fatal clash and his newest lead. But Jazz being here was doing a good job of throwing everything out of place.

"You sure you're okay Prowler?" Jazz asks again as he steps closer, and his worried field pushes against him and jolts Prowl back to the present.

"I'm fine Jazz. I'm probably in some sort of shock that this conflict will be finished soon. After two and a half orbitals of fighting it seems unreal."

"Well it is and now you can rest for a whole solar cycle afterwards." Jazz tells him brightly and Prowl's dermas twist down.

"A whole solar cycle, I never thought I'd have such luck bestowed on me." Prowl deadpans. But his spark flutters when he hears Jazz’s hearty chuckle.

"Okay it's not long, but I'll make sure it's perfect," He promises as he squeezes his pauldron lightly, field softly mingling with his, "I’ll be right back Prowler."

Then there's a soft pressure to the side of his helm. It's distracting for a variety of reasons, the clearest one being that nothing that soft had touch his helm since he put on the armor. When he finally processes what had happened Prowl is holding the servo on his shoulder tighter as his helm snaps to Jazz and he sees the other mech looks just as awe-struck as he felt. 

_He... He kissed me._

Jazz pulls his servo from his grip and backs away, looking horribly miserable and nothing like his Jazz.

_Mine?_

"I ... I should probably —"

"Jazz! Wait."

And by some force he does. Taking an unsure step forward Prowl watches Jazz closely as he ducks his helm, so not to look at him. Reaching out, Prowl taps the side of his servo and in an instant Jazz is holding onto him. Pulling him the rest of the way he delicately tilts his helm up and Prowl can just make out Jazz's optics pass his visor, brighten with emotions as his field struggles to hold back.

"Let go if you don’t want me to," He whispers and his hold goes slack.

He should. But he doesn't.

Closing the space between them Prowl places a chaste kiss on Jazz's full dermas. Even at the light touch it outmatches any other kiss he had had before. It was simple. It felt right. And he could get lost in it.

Engulfed in a field that bleeds adoration he lets Jazz lead the kiss and pull him closer. Jazz presses back and coax him into something deeper, but Prowl is willingly deepening the kiss, much to Jazz's amusement as his dermas curve into a smile against his. Wrapping his free servo around the back of Jazz's helm he pulls him in closer, their frames fitting too perfectly together. Humming happily at that thought Prowl is quickly sadden when Jazz pulls back, but not before one last nip to his dermas.

But when he see the unbridled joyful grin across Jazz's faceplates Prowl can deal with the lost to just gaze at this wonderful sight for megacycles.

" 'Take it by how tight you’re holdin' on that you liked it." Jazz whispers back, grin growing.

Biting his dermas Prowl nods shyly.

"Could I do it again?"

And whatever joy he was feeling seeps out of him as Prowl remembers where they are and what they're doing.

"I-I don't - I - Jazz. I’m not the best with this," Prowl stutters as he tries to step back, but Jazz keeps his tender hold on his hip and behind his neck, "Relationships required time."

_And I take up too much time with too little results._

"We can go at our own pace," Jazz tries, "No one set a date."

"You also don't know much about me. How I can act behind closed doors."

"It's half the fun of getting to know someone. I know I like you how you are and that I don’t want you to change."

And it sounds so true but, "The risk Jazz. Not just the war, but us."

His grin dims, and while it pains Prowl, he knows he's gotten through how important this it. But in the next moment Jazz is stepping closer and resting his helm against his and Prowl is overwhelmed by the softly charged emotions intertwining with his hesitant field.

"It's always gonna be high risk, but we'll get through this together," He says and Prowl can hear the hopeful smile in his voice, "Through this war, and if you let me, through life. You don't need to worry about me or worry about how others see us. No one can or will change my processor about you. Including me."

Then the soft press of those warm dermas are against the center of his chevron and Prowl almost believes he could.

"Just let go and let it happen... Trust me."

"Trust." And looking up Prowl sees that wonderful smile again.

"Yeah. Just me, Prowler. No ones rule, no standards." He adds softly as he kisses the center of his helm again.

He had heard similar line, with less emotion, but it was close enough, "It never turns out that way." 

Jazz brings his servo around to caress the side of his helm as his dermas set in a thin line, "Prowler, darlin’. I've been there too, but this is different. I want - _need_ \- you in my life."

"... Really?" He asks, pleads, quietly.

"Really."

It was there, the possibility, and that was daunting. He had always taken one solar cycle at a time, like an unplanned journey, even after all his teaching. Each solar cycle was something new and Prowl had no plans for the future but to survive to the next one. But with Jazz he could, he wanted to, wanted to plan. The continuous 'what if's' that had sparked across his processor of wanting to build a life with this marvelous mech were always filled with the phantom warmth Jazz brought with him and a bottomless fear that oscillated through his systems. But this time the real mech was here asking and it was an anticipation the spreads through his frame. A silly, giddy excitement surges through him and Prowl takes the next step.

"Yes."

Jazz's jaw drops as he stares back in disbelief, "Yes?"

He barely says it again before he's being spun around and surrounded by Jazz's wonderful laughter. When the world stops spinning Prowl finds himself the focus of all of Jazz's adoration and Prowl won't deny his core felt warmer than it had ever been. That he was happier than he had been in a while.

"So Prowler can I get the extra kiss for good luck and all." Jazz asks and grins when Prowl rolls his optics at the other.

"You're only going to the base."

"But it might be dangerous."

"Driving sixteen hics?" Prowl raises an optic ridge.

Shrugging, Jazz places another quick kiss on his chevron, "You never know. Think of it as a safety precaution." And flashes another grin.

Prowl breaks at the silly conversation and smiles back as his processor tries to catch up with all the new events that had happened. But what took precedence was the fact that Prowl was going to be the recipient of the amazing mech and his fantastic personality for as long as he'd let him.

"There’s that smile." Jazz teases.

So soft. So indulgent for someone like him. And even as his processor shies away Prowl's spark thunders with delight and he throws caution to the wind. Leaning up he captures those full dermas again and sinks contently into the bliss they bring.

Carefully peaking around the corner Optimus looks for any signs of activity. The hallways of this ship were weird with the fluctuations Decepticons wandering around to none at all. 

The Sensory Suite was down a couple more halls and hopefully he'd be safe from any Con reporting his 'adventure' to Megatron. Stepping out into the intersection he looks around again, sensors on high, before as quickly as he could starts making his way down the hall.

Optimus had been moving around well enough for the last decacycle and a half, even if he wasn’t supposed to, but he was getting stronger and he wasn't useful being laid up. Megatron dismissed him about his complaints on resting and tried to 'calm' him with flattering him with praise that he was the reason they had the surge in victories.

_Maybe I'll make more of a complaint about his one-on-one battles with the Grand Thyous. That's been annoying him since they tried to run a heavy cruiser into ours._

"It always astounds me how faint-sparked you are around me. I am greatly flattered."

The cultured Tarnian tone drifts down the hall and in an instant Optimus is pressing up against the wall. 

"It’s-because-you-surprised-me."

Hearing that reply has him slowly shimmies up to the next intersection.

"You-have-a-way-of-showing-up-unannounced. Hidden,-one-could-almost-say," Blurr answers and if Optimus' audials weren't failing him it sounded almost teasing.

"Yes, one could. You could say it’s my fascination with you. I only truly get to see you in moments of relapse. I... I am finding the brief meetings are too intoxicating to let go."

"So-you-lay-traps-in-hope-of-catching-me-alone,-not-the-most-sane-thing-to-hear."

"... Call it a quirk of my nature. One that seems to be serving me well... Don't you wish to have what we once did?"

The resulting silence stops Optimus in his tracks so not to call attention to himself.

"What we had?" Blurr says slowly, sadness creeping into his voice and Optimus quickens his pace to the intersection, "It was what we _wanted_, but didn't have... And-after-what-I've-heard-I-doubt-you-could-see-it-as-anything-more-then-a-mission."

"I did not think you were one for idle gossip."

"And-you're-evading. But-it-doesn't-matter-it's-the-only-true-information-I-have-on-you. Everything-else-was-a-lie." Bitterness echoing in the halls.

"It was not. That is not what it was at all," Shockwave pleads, though voice still controlled in a way, "Yes, around colleagues as I have no time for it. But for you," And Optimus hears the faintest noise of hydraulics moving, "Not showing an emotional response is difficult."

The scoff Blurr gives him has Optimus huffing as he smiles, but he bites his bottom derma to keep quiet.

"You-couldn't-tell-if-one-of-those-hit-you-in-the-face," Blurr softly denies.

"And you wouldn't believe me if I told you that I adore you."

Optimus slaps a servo over his mouth at the confident and casual way Shockwave said those powerful words. Finally at the corner Optimus leans around to see Shockwave kneeling before Blurr, the speedster's faceplates alight with excitement and genuine happiness before his expression collapses into grieve.

"No ... No-you...," Shaking his helm Blurr looks to his pedes, "I-don't-know-you."

But looking down Blurr doesn't see Shockwave's optic dim and narrow as he shakes his helm sadly.

"You know everything Blurr," And reaching out with a single claw lifts Blurr's chin putting the blue bot's neck completely on display. But Blurr is unafraid, just unsure and sparkbroken, "I hid, yes, but I didn’t hide _me_. And you were _never_ a mission to me Blurr."

"... I don’t know what I... I want."

The hopelessness is clear in his voice, but Optimus is too paralyzed to help and can only watch.

Watch as Shockwave leans in and rest his forehead against Blurr's closing his optic. As their helms touch Blurr begins to shake, so hard that Optimus can hear the rattling of his sparse armor, but stills and looks almost relaxed as Shockwave places his servo on his hip. Then in a bold move the other servo comes to rest on his right hip as the left one trails up the short distance of Blurr's frame so a single claw could rest salaciously on his chassis, over his spark chamber! But Blurr doesn't push it away, no, with both servos he presses it closer to his spark and leans into it closing his optics. 

Optimus wants to walk out there and get Blurr out of this situation, as a leader and hopefully a friend. But he can't tell if the speedster would want it or not. He looks happy in this moment, but Optimus couldn't truly tell.

Then a familiar brush of EM field and a message notification has him looking behind him, and to his surprise, Optimus sees Megatron watching the two with a somber expression.

[[ Come along Little Prime. Let's not bother them. ]]

But a nanoklik later he hears a sharp inhale and a choked up "Don't-say-that-please" and suddenly Optimus is leaning heavily against Megatron's side, his left side radiating pain. The only thing pointing to the culprit is the faint static of a field steeped in wretchedness. But when he looks around Megatron he can't see any neon blue and knows he's too late.

Sighing sadly Optimus tries to stands, determined to find Blurr, but the brief crash has left him staggering as soon as he stands.

Or he would have if Megatron didn't steady him.

Glancing to the servo holding him up, Optimus almost can't believe it when he looks up to Megatron. And as the larger mech leans closer Optimus lets him, pinned under the other's red gaze, his optics feeling more like they were burning instead of the usual frost he was used to. He looks him over with a critical optic, and possibly concern, before Optimus is stiffening under Megatron's touch as he places his other servo over his side. The pressure is light, but it still pulls a hiss of pain from him. Optimus is sure he wasn't bleeding, but he knows he'll still need to get it checked out.

Though before he can even turn himself around he's being lifted up by Megatron. Except he wasn’t being held under the Decepticon's arm like a sack of gears, this time he was begin cradled in the crux of Megatron’s arm. Opening his mouth to protest he is immediately interrupted.

"Save your excuses for Hook," Megatron rumbles and Optimus reluctantly closes his mouth.

Caught again and injured, Optimus leans back against Megatron's chassis and makes the best of the situation as he lets the leader walk him to Medical. Megatron was silent the whole way and Optimus, for once, had no objections to his mode of travel.

How could he when his processor was so busy burning up about the rights and wrongs of this ‘affair’ of sorts. An affair he was turning a blind optic to, that he had 'okayed' in all but datawork. One that seems to be failing from the start.

How was he allowed to be good to himself when he couldn't do anything good for others?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fic Trivia! Language!  
So most languages have more than one word to mean different kinds of love, but usually it’s said as ‘I love you’ and is translated as such.  
_Love_ in Neocybex is still used, but it’s more for exclamations and statements like 'I love that', 'I love this book or this song', or 'I love them//I'm in love'. But when actually addressing the specific bot that the other loves they will uses different words to express the levels of love;  
_Care/Cherish_ — love for compatible unit (family) or close friends.  
_Admire_ — liking them for certain aspects; akin to a crush moving into love.  
_Desire_ — as it sounds, it's more lust or liking the idea of them.  
_Adore_ — is the closest to the ‘I love you’ with the layered effect of expressing a deep understanding, wanting and enjoyment of them with all their strengths and faults.  
  
HOT TAKES:  
\- Jazz and Prowl are a couple now Hooray!!! \\(◍>ᴗ<◍)/ Meanwhile, Blurrwave angst feeds my soul. I need to stop, but it’s so good (⋟﹏⋞)  
\- I wonder why Sari feels so strongly about the two sides working together???  
\- _Beware!_ some Triple Changers are more feral than others, but are all equally wild. And what’s this! More lavender optiked bots have arrived on the scene! And one's Springer, a classic favorite, but as a Decepticon!? What does it mean??? (◔︿◔ԅ)  
\- Strika and Lugnut; **The Literal Power Couple of the Decepticons**. I like to think that these weapons are like those couples that get matching tattoos. POKE is the 'punch of kill everything' and Lugnut wanted to gift Strika with something similar. He named it STEP the 'stomp to eliminate problems'. She loves it and only uses it with Lugnut.


End file.
